A Dead Mockingjay
by Lexicon04
Summary: Then the remaining space between our lips is gone, and I'm sucked into a world that seems to beautiful to be true. And for the first time, I know what I had gotten myself into when I said "Real." But I don't care.
1. Hope Shines A Light

**Hi! **

**This is just a dumb little one-shot about Katniss during her depression at the end of Mockingjay. One of the best ways to express my emotions is through writing and this story just arrived out of nowhere one day. . . it's not brilliant (sorry) but I hope it does have some meaning to those who have experienced depression and then realized that there are things worth living for :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the brilliant Hunger Games trilogy. . . but I sure wish I had that pleasure. All characters belong to Suzanne Collins. **

Depression settled in. I could feel it everywhere- in my hands, in the barely flickering fire, in my vacant stare. I could see it in my neglected house and my reflection in Greasy Sae's eyes. It lingered in the air and on my skin. Silently it followed me wherever I went, emanating despair, as if every bad feeling I had ever felt meshed into one unbroken emotion.

Continuous. Unfeeling. All-consuming.

And I loved it. For once in my life, I found myself unable to feel. Nothing, neither happiness or anger or love, could break through that wall of depression I'd created. I used the wall as a shield- a shield to ward off every offending emotion I'd gone through in the past few months. Fear, grief, desperation . . . each and every one of them dropped out of sight.

Because you see, depression isn't feeling extreme grief or sadness. Depression is the total absence of feeling. Everything in your body shuts down, goes numb, as if a particularly large dose of morphling is making its way through your veins. And once you have access to that dose, nothing can stop you. It's addictive- once the medication wears off, you have to take more to ward off the emotions that start to stir. And so the cycle begins.

Sleeping and staring consume most of my time now, although I welcome neither. Nightmares plague my sleep, more vivid and scarier than ever. My voice only sounds after the nightmares, when I wake up screaming. Occasionally Greasy Sae makes small talk and I try to engage in the conversation, but my attempts are futile.

Sometimes, I don't know why I even try. Death seems so much easier at this point. Just a trigger pulled, or a string released, and I'm off to a better place. While staring, I contemplate suicide. Nobody cares for me anymore- as in, really, really cares. Haymitch will just drink his troubles away, and I happen to be one of them anyways. Greasy Sae cares but if I die, she'll quickly move on.

Plutarch will only mourn his chance of having me on TV, and my mom will bury herself in her work like she did when Prim died. Gale. . . Gale probably doesn't care about me anymore. The thought that nobody cares about me never bothered me, and now I am fervently grateful for it. Nobody will grieve for me.

But something- some annoying little thing- keeps me clinging to life. Somehow, I know I can't commit suicide. It almost bothers me. Does the something want me to be happy or not?

Then something catches my eye which answers the question for me. Something so small that if I hadn't taken to staring all day I wouldn't notice it at all. It's fluffy head just peeks out of the soil- a new life.

It's a dandelion.

I realize that my previous assumptions were wrong- there is someone who cares about me, who wants me to be happy. Only not in the way I want. He will want me to fight for it. He might just be the reason I have to cling to life- even this surreal, numb, depression-laced life.

But why should I hang on for him?

**I bet you got numb just reading that, right? If you did, all my goals have been accomplished. . . lol :) **

**I know that was a little bit of a cliffhanger. . . this is supposed to be a one-shot but if you think maybe I should continue, please tell me. **

**Reviews are appreciated.**

**-Lexie ;)**


	2. Screaming for The Dead

The question circles around my head as I try to hold onto reason, sanity. Emotions built up inside me and nothing, absolutely nothing could stop it. I started hyperventilating. My lungs couldn't get enough air, it seemed like the oxygen just slipped right through my body without staying long enough to make any lasting impression. For one second, everything was too still. The second where the last rip in the seam is made, the second where everything just fall apart.

Then the screaming started.

Terrible, shattering screams echoed off the walls. I poured everything into those screams- my grief at Prim's death, my mixed feelings about Peeta, the horrible desperation in the arena. Finnick, Boggs, Rue, Madge, Cinna, Darius, Lavinia . . . I screamed for all of them.

Eventually my screams died out and I just lay on the floor, crying. Sobs racked my body and I wished more than anything that someone, anyone, would come to me. I wish someone would hold me, whisper in my ear, tell me everything will be all right. Even though it won't.

For the first time, I hated the fact nobody cared. Now I wanted them to care. Even if it was someone stupid like Plutarch.

Still sobbing uncontrollably, I fell asleep on the floor, imagining Peeta's arms around me.

I dreamed of Prim and Rue. They sat in a beautiful meadow, weaving flower chains, talking and laughing like old friends. Once every flower in the meadow had been used, they both morphed into mockingjays and took flight, singing sweet songs. Suddenly I flew with them as a mockingjay myself.

I thought I knew what freedom felt like. I thought I'd experienced that fierce rush of joy and wild happiness that accompany freedom.

I was wrong.

This, flying in the air with Prim and Rue, feeling the wind ruffle my feathers- this is freedom. This is what I live for.

A bright light slowly coaxes me into waking. For a few moments, I savor the lulling comfort my dream left behind, then reluctantly open my eyes into narrow slits. Sunlight glares into my eyes full-force.

Ouch. I rub my eyes to get rid of the bright streak burned into them. Surprisingly, I'm in a pretty good mood. This first sign of feeling has given me a bit of hope, and I use that hope to keep me moving. No doubt the torrent of emotions that flowed last night eased some of my pain. The depression has broken in any case, though it is not completely gone yet.

I pretend Prim is telling me what to do. "Katniss, you look terrible. Go and take a shower- yes, before breakfast! And work through your hair- I'll help you once I've finished milking Lady." Prim's voice, bright and teasing, comes so easily to my troubled mind.

Obediently, I head upstairs to the shower. When I shed my clothes, huge flakes of skin cling to the spoiled garments. The warm water feels so inviting that eventually I just sit down and let the water run over me.

Working through my hair is a long, laborious task, and I nearly end up chopping it all off in the midst of my frustration.

"Katniss. No chopping off your hair. Just let me help you, okay?" Prim laughed, and immediately I sat still and finished working through my tangles. Then I braid it in its usual style.

"Now you have to eat breakfast, Katniss, and don't forget to feed Buttercup or he'll get angry. Make sure you thank Greasy Sae for making it. Maybe you should offer to hunt for her later, for compensation. Okay?" Prim ordered good-naturedly.

Walking downstairs might as well be called dangerous in my state. I almost tumbled down three times, but the stair-rail caught me each time.

The fourth time, I really did fall, but luckily I was only on the last step. The cause of this fall, though, wasn't weakness. It was the smell that laced the kitchen. No. I'm just imagining things.

But when I reached the table, a plate full of still-steaming cheesy buns awaited me.


	3. Reminder Of The Past

**Two chapters in one day- I am on a roll today! :) I love that period when writer's block has gone. . . I feel like I could write all day. And just out of curiosity . . . how old do you think I am? Lol sorry that was a random question but I just wondered :D **

I blink. Blink again. And they're still there. For a second I hesitate- what if they aren't real? What if I try to eat one and it disappears?

Then I realize that I'm being completely ridiculous. Of course the cheesy buns are real. By now, I can't resist the smell, and I start stuffing them into my mouth. God, I have never tasted anything so good in my life. The cheese melts on my tongue and the bread is nice and dense, just the way I like it. And on top of it all, they're still hot.

The past few months, I haven't really noticed what I've been eating. Who cares, anyways? Food only prolongs your life. But I ate it because it would be offensive to Greasy Sae if I didn't.

Now, however, I let myself go in a way I never do and ate like an animal. It isn't like anybody is around to watch me. I remembered Prim's command to feed Buttercup and I did, reluctantly sacrificing one of my precious cheesy buns to give to the stupid cat.

Just as I was finishing my last bun, I heard footsteps behind me. Loud footsteps. "Katniss, look who's here!" squealed Prim. But I don't have to look. I already know who it is.

"Hi, Peeta." I said. My voice is slightly hoarse from underuse and all that screaming last night.

"Hi, Katniss." Peeta sounds careful, controlled. Like I might explode any moment.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I just stayed silent. But I turned around to stare at him. Peeta looks thin and has tons of scars, but he's healthy and strong. Much more than me. His eyes . . . my memory hasn't given them justice. That soft blue gaze never looked more. . .

_Snap out of it_! I scolded myself.

"I heard you last night." Peeta remarked. Okay, not the conversation opener I was looking for.

"You _heard _me?" I asked furiously. Peeta looks taken aback at my sudden change of tone.

"Um. . . yeah."

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU COME OVER?" I screamed. Damn, that just about killed my throat. "You just sat at your house while I was screaming and I _obviously _needed help! Do you even care anymore?" I knew that last sentence took it much too far, because Peeta's normally kind blue eyes turned to ice.

"You think I don't care? Katniss, the whole reason I didn't come over was because I had a flashback! I was trying to _protect _you. I even made you breakfast this morning." His eyes are now narrowed into icy slits.

"Oh." I whispered, suddenly feeling stupid. "I'm sorry." But the words sound pathetic even to me.

Peeta says nothing, just studies me with those eyes, now softening just the tiniest bit. Then he starts to leave. And I don't want him to- not yet.

"Peeta?" I spoke up timidly. He doesn't turn to look at me, but at least he stops walking.

"Thanks for making breakfast. And . . . thank you for the bread." It's only as I've said this that I realized I've never thanked him for it. The bread he gave me when I was eleven, when I almost starved to death.

Now he looks at me, warily but also in gratitude. Then, without a word, he pulls me into a hug. I hadn't exactly been in close proximity to someone in a long time and it felt so good I almost wished it would never end.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Peeta whispers and after a light kiss on the nose, he leaves.

My mind is buzzing- with both pleasure and confusion. "Katniss, you know you woke up at three this afternoon? It seems weird, but that might explain why the sun was in your face this morning. Also, it's a good time for hunting." Prim told me. She didn't even bother to hint at it- I needed to go hunting, and I needed to now.

"Prim, I don't want to go hunting. I'm tired." I lied. I was better rested than ever, especially because no nightmares haunted my sleep tonight.

"You are a terrible liar. Katniss, go outside and hunt. It isn't that hard." Prim persisted. At this point, I realized I am acting completely stupid. I am practically arguing with myself. But it helps ease the pain of Prim's death, and if it comes to arguing with myself then that is what I'll do.

"Prim, not today. Maybe tomorrow, but not now. I'm so exhausted from everything. . ." This time, exhaustion actually did sink in. Dragging myself upstairs, I barely had the strength to climb onto my bed before I sank into a deep and comfortable sleep.

**I will update soon, promise Once I get stuck on a story I can never stop writing. . . I may even have another one or two chapters up tomorrow! I really hope you're enjoying this. It's slightly left centre and I'm curious how everyone perceives it, so please review! **

**- Lexie ;)**


	4. On Tracker Jackers and White Liquor

Unfortunately, my peaceful sleep didn't last very long as a nightmare interrupted it, adding to the hundreds of times I've woken up screaming. Again, the screams turned into tears- but these were tears of sheer terror and hopelessness. Through my tears I didn't even notice that Peeta had arrived.

"Shhhhh, Katniss, its okay. It was just a dream." His hand strokes my hair. The feel of his strong, sure fingers on my head calms me. My sobs get quieter and quieter until I've stopped crying all together. Sighing, I just focus on Peeta's fingers interlaced with mine.

Suddenly his grip gets tight- too tight. "Peeta, you're crushing my hand!" I said, desperately trying to wriggle my hand out of his.

"Katniss, go away."Peeta said through gritted teeth.

"What?" I asked, completely bewildered.

"I don't want to see you. Just leave." The cruelty in his voice terrifies me, but more than anything it hurts. I run from the room, tears streaming freely again. Before I know it, I'm at Haymitch's house. He's still awake, even at this late hour.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he frowns, taking in my disheveled appearance. I'm too busy crying to respond and Haymitch rolls his eyes. But he allows me to curl up on his couch and get it all out of my system. While I do this he finished his bottle of liquor and immediately pops open a new one.

"Give me that!" I suddenly make a grab for the bottle. Haymitch is so surprised that he lets go immediately. No way am I getting drunk again, but a few mouthfuls can't hurt. When the fiery liquor burns through me, I smile.

"Only one person can mess you up this badly." Haymitch smirks, snatching the bottle back before I'd even taken three gulps.

"He told me to go away and that he didn't want to see me!" I burst out.

"That's not him talking and you know it. Now go back to your house and deal with it!" Haymitch is barely coherent now, which has absolutely no effect on the harshness of his words. He only laughs when I give him my best death glare.

"Fine, but I want one more sip first." I grab the bottle again and take another swig before staggering out of his house. I'm not drunk, just a bit fuzzy in the head. Dang, this stuff is strong. How did I survive last time? Just as I reach my house, I bang into something. Peeta.

I stare at him with obvious distrust, but he looks like his normal self.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I shouldn't have hurt you." He shifts his gaze to my fingers, where bruises have started to form.

"It wasn't your fault." I sighed, but my voice broke. Why on earth am I crying so much lately? This depression really messed me up nicely.

Then Peeta kisses me out of nowhere. It was short, but long enough to send a tiny zinging spark zooming through me before we broke apart.

"Katniss, have you been drinking again?" Peeta frowns disapprovingly.

"Yes." I admit sheepishly.

"This better not become a regular thing with you." He groans.

"I'm on my best behavior." I say, but stumble on the front steps to my house.

"Right. I'm sure you are." Peeta teases, helping me through the door.

I try to make the best face I can, but it falls flat because I'm so woozy. Damn me for weakening at the prospect of another drink.

"Remind me to ban you from going to Haymitch's house ever again." Peeta remarks as he tries to drag me up the stairs. Finally he has to resort to carrying me back to my bed. For some reason I obsess over tracing the hard muscles through his shirt. This would be a much more interesting way to occupy my staring phases.

"Goodnight, Katniss. I'll see you in the morning." Peeta gives one last squeeze of my hand and turns to leave.

"No. Stay." I manage through exhaustion and alcohol.

"Always."


	5. Planting The Primroses

**Hey! This chapter is a little longer than the others, to make up for that last really short chapter. And sorry, but my computer is acting funny and some of my A/Ns aren't showing up. Anyways, this was my favorite chapter to write by far! I'm enjoying this story much more than I thought I would. Enjoy!**

Laughter sounded in the kitchen that morning. Laughter? That is something I haven't heard in a while. Hurriedly, I threw on some clothes that weren't pajamas and headed downstairs. The smell of freshly baked bread accompanied with bacon and eggs made my stomach growl.

A happy sight greeted me upon entering the kitchen. Greasy Sae stood at the counter, making sure the bacon didn't burn, and Peeta was teasing her granddaughter Shannon with a bit of string. "Give it back!" she squealed, but it didn't sound very indignant. It was the happy shriek of an innocent child having the time of her life.

The scene seemed cozy, like the kind of thing anyone in a normal family might wake up to.

When I walked in, everyone stared. If there is one thing I hate, it's being put under pressure like this.

"Katniss! Peeta says that when you wake up we can go work on a special project together!" Shannon shrieked excitedly. Her round, eager face reminded me of Prim's.

That softened me up enough to ask, "What's the project?"

"It's a secret." A spark glinted in Peeta's eye. I scowled. Surprises are the worst and he knows it.

"He won't tell me either." Shannon said seriously.

"Well, nobody is doing any special projects until they've eaten breakfast." Greasy Sae spoke up, doling eggs on four separate plates.

Shannon turned to Peeta. "But I want to go _now_!" she whined.

"Well, for the special project you need your strength. So you can say that eating breakfast is step one. Okay?" he said.

"Okay!" Shannon agreed happily and started shoveling eggs into her mouth.

I had to admire the gentle, teasing way Peeta interacted with Shannon. He will make such a great father someday. That got me wondering- will he ever have kids someday? Will he move on from me and marry someone else? A tiny spark of jealousy flared at the thought and I quickly pushed it out of my mind.

"I'm done!" Shannon announced.

"You still have to finish your bacon." Peeta reminded her.

"But I don't like my bacon." Shannon insisted stubbornly.

"Feed it to Buttercup." I suggest. "But take one more bite." I feel like I'm responsible for this girl- almost like it's another chance to raise Prim. Maybe I can do it right this time.

Shannon reluctantly takes a tiny bite of her bacon.

"Bigger." Peeta and I chorused.

She stuffs the whole thing in her mouth.

"Not _that _big!" I can't help but laugh. Shannon looks so funny, her cheeks bulging like a squirrel's. Laughing feels amazing after all this time, and I can feel more of the depression break.

Peeta is smiling too, but not because of Shannon. He's happy to see me smiling again. Really, I don't deserve anyone this good.

"Buttercup likes me!" Shannon exclaimed delightedly.

"What? Buttercup doesn't like anybody." I said, but Shannon is right. I can hear him purring as Shannon pets him and feeds him the bacon.

"Buttercup says we have to work on the special project or he'll get mad and claw your eyes out." Shannon said conversationally.

"Well, we'd better get moving then." Peeta says lightly, offering his hand to me. I take it and he and Shannon lead me into the backyard.

"We're planting roses!" Shannon holds one up to me. Roses? I'm about to scream at Peeta for bringing back all the memories, but then I get a good look at the flower.

It's not a rose, but an evening primrose. The flower my sister was named for.

"Primroses, Shannon. We're planting primroses." Peeta corrects her. Then he looks at me, trying to gauge my reaction.

"Thank you." I whisper, squeezing his hand.

We spend the next few hours working on planting the primroses around the perimeter of my house. It's long, hard, and even a little tedious after a while. But I feel like I finally get to have my own funeral for Prim. Every bush we finish planting is a small reminder of her life and who she was.

Peeta and I tell Shannon the reasons for planting the primroses and she listens, eyes wide. She asks if she should give Buttercup back to Prim so they can be happy together in heaven, but I told her Prim would be happy to see Buttercup with someone else.

"When the bushes get flowers, do you think Prim will want some?" she wonders aloud.

"I'm sure she will. We'll bury some of the flowers in the ground so she can reach them." Peeta promises.

Finally, the last bush has been placed firmly on the ground. I'm left with a sort of satisfaction, but also a sense of healing. Prim died, yes, but now there will be a piece of her with me wherever I go. I feel like I can let go of her death.

"It's time to go home now, Shannon." I tell the little girl. It's almost sad, really- she's been a huge help and I honestly like having her around. Peeta does too.

"I don't want to go home!" Shannon wailed, holding Buttercup tightly.

"But you'll see me very soon. You're coming tonight for dinner, remember?" I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Unfortunately, no. Tonight is my night to make dinner." Peeta informed me.

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, really. I thought Greasy Sae might like a night off." He said innocently. But I know his real intentions. He wants to talk to me alone.

"I have to wait until tomorrow?" Shannon asked tearfully.

"Yes. But you can see us in your dreams, too." I stroked her hair. Golden brown, an unusual color for District 12.

Shannon then reluctantly says goodbye to Buttercup and Prim.

"If I talk to the primroses, she'll her me from heaven!" Shannon whispered.

She walked between us, one hand in Peeta's and one in mine, all the way back to her house. The young girl chattered on about today's events, from how excited she was for the primroses to bloom right down to her new pet Buttercup.

"Prim says she's mine now, but you have to look after her for me because Buttercup doesn't like being away from your house. And I can't give him any food." She went on. Eventually we reached Greasy Sae's house, where she was making lunch for her and Shannon. She didn't want to leave us but we told her she had to listen to her grandma.

"Thanks for looking after her!" she called after us.

"You're welcome!" we said in unison.

And with that, we walked hand in hand towards home.

**I loved creating Shannon's character. She is just so adorable :) Her name means "Little Wise Owl" and I though it suited her. **

**Oh, and can anyone tell me what OOC and SYOT stand for? I feel like I should know these things already, sorry! **

**R&R :)**


	6. Through His Eyes

**This chapter is more of a filler. . . sorry. . . the next one will be more interesting! *wink***

**Thanks to DawnStarLight for pointing that out! You are awesome!**

The nice thing about being with Peeta is that he's comfortable with silence. You have no need to fill in the blanks with mindless chatter just because it feels uncomfortable to stay quiet. Silence happens to be exactly what I need right now. The time to be quiet and just enjoy the fact you're alive on such a beautiful day. Think of Prim and how the primroses in my yard should flower soon.

I let my mind wander and think about even the most trivial things, like my family's plant book and the mockingjay singing overhead. Mockingjays made me think of Rue, which made me think of everyone else that died. Suddenly a new idea popped into my head out of nowhere. . .

"Peeta?"

"Yes?"

"You know my family's plant book?"

"Well, obviously, because I drew some of the pictures in it."

"What if we did something like that, only we write about all the people that died. Like Cinna and Mags and even your dad." I waited for his response.

It's a long time before he answers. For a few minutes I'm afraid that I've offended him, but then he smiles.

"I think that's a great idea, Kat." He said, but that was all. Maybe he isn't in a talking sort of mood. Then the grip on my hand tightens. _Not again_, I think in dismay. These flashbacks almost seem to be happening more than they should.

"District 12 was bombed. Real or not real?" he asks. I can tell he's trying really hard not to lose it and go all mutt on me.

"Real. But we're rebuilding, and soon it will all be as good as new." I answered as soothingly as possible.

"We participated in the Hunger Games together."

"Real. The 74th and the 75th. But the Games are over now."

"Your favorite color. . . is. . . orange?"

"Not real. That's your favorite color. Mine is green."

Finally Peeta's shoulders relax and his grip on my hand isn't crushing anymore.

"Three flashbacks in two days?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Sometimes there are periods where it happens more than usual. It isn't exactly uncommon. Well, for me, anyways." Peeta says quickly. Apparently he's keen to avoid the subject. We spend the rest of the walk home in silence- and not the nice kind, either.

When we arrive at my house, I go upstairs to take a shower and get dressed into some nicer clothes. My current ones are smudged with dirt from planting the flowers. While in the shower, my head starts to spin.

I start the list in my head. _My name is Katniss Everdeen. I live in District 12. Peeta is back in District 12. He made me breakfast. Then we planted primroses with Shannon. He is having more flashbacks than he should. Is there something he isn't telling me . . .? _No. Peeta would tell me if something was wrong. _Or maybe he wouldn't because he knows you'll worry,_ a tiny voice in my head protests.

Now my head is spinning again.

Once I manage to step out of the shower without falling over, I try to find something comfortable to wear. Finally, I settle on some black pants and a dark green T-shirt. I also throw on my father's hunting jacket, because I need some part of my family more than ever right now. Putting on the jacket almost feels like a comforting hug from my father himself.

My head still spins uncomfortably and I have to lie down. When I curl up on my bed, though, the duvet makes an odd crinkling noise. Curious, I reach under the blanket and feel the smooth surface of paper. I pull it out and see a slightly wrinkled piece of paper with a beautiful sketch on it. Nobody but Peeta could have drawn this.

It's a sketch of a girl hunting in the woods. She stalks through the trees, arrow drawn like she's about to shoot something. Her expression is one of utter concentration, but something about her face shines and I know that she is doing something she loves.

My brain didn't make the connection until I realized she wore my father's jacket. That girl- she's me! No, it can't be. But I do see that the eyes are a stormy grey, her dark hair in a braid draped over her shoulder.

Am I seriously that beautiful? Is this really how Peeta sees me?

Because, for the first time in my life, I am actually flattered. I never, ever understood how Peeta could love me so much, especially when I've hurt him so many times. But now I can see how he looks at me, and it's changed my whole perspective on him. Now I can truly see his goodness, the complete faithfulness that belongs to me.

"Do you like it?" he whispers in my ear. His warm breath makes me feel all tingly.

Turning around, I kiss him full on the mouth.

He takes that as a yes.

**I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who had read this story, who added it to their story alerts, and my special thanks to everyone who has reviewed. *hugs* I love you guys!**

**-Lexie ;) **


	7. Birthday Surpises

**Sorry I haven't updated every day like I usually do : / I've been too busy watching the Hunger Games movie! AMAZINGNESS! I cry almost every time I watch Rue die. Also- Katniss and Peeta kiss once? _Really? _ I counted like ten other moments in the movie where they could have kissed, but they just like stared at each other. Come on, people, just go ahead and do it! And Cato's speech- *sob sob*- my hatred of him just disappeared right then. Poor dude :(**

**Anyways, this chapter is also a bit of a filler. Sorry, I know I said it would be more interesting, but I'll probably update another chapter today which will DEFINITELY without a doubt be much more interesting. **

_I can't remember a time where I felt better than this. The only thing in the whole world I could classify as real was Peeta's lips on mine, and his arms around my waist. . ._

_Suddenly I saw Peeta, lying on the floor, pinned down to it somehow. He struggled against the invisible bonds. A sickening scent of blood and roses filled my nose, and President Snow's evil voice whispered in my ear, "Kill him."_

"_No." I trembled violently. "I can't do it."_

"_Do it or I'll kill him myself. You don't want to watch your boyfriend die, do you?" he hissed._

_I tried to make it quick, painless. But every time I shot, Snow jerked my hand, and the bullet always hit Peeta at the wrong angle. His screams of pain bounded off the walls, and tears rolled down my cheeks. Blood flowed steadily from his many wounds. But then the blood didn't stop. It poured and poured until I was drowning in the sticky river._

"_Peeta! Where are you?" I screamed, fighting to keep my head above the tide._

_The last thing I heard before my head went under was Snow's cold, ringing laugh. . ._

Sobs, not screams, awoke me this time. Even though it had just been a dream, I couldn't stop crying from sheer horror. Just the idea of injuring, much less killing, Peeta is appalling. I've injured him enough with my words.

Rosy streaks of dawn started to stream through the windows. After drying my eyes, I realized that Peeta was missing. Panic enveloped me at an alarming rate, and I was just about to start screaming for him when the smell of something wonderful wafted into my room. It almost smelled like. . . cake? Although I'd eaten cake many times, somehow the smell has always escaped me.

Why would Peeta be making cake? And why at seven in the morning?

Suddenly I heard footsteps on the stairs. Not Peeta's loud ones, but the small, excited steps of a young child. Dashing back into bed, I just managed to get into a comfortable position before Shannon burst into the room. She tiptoed across the floor, and I felt the mattress squish under her weight.

I felt a tiny finger hesitantly poke my shoulder. "Katniss, wake up! It's your birthday! Aren't you excited?" Shannon whispered happily.

Oh, that's right. Today is May 8th- my eighteenth birthday.

"Morning, Shannon." I managed to squeeze a yawn into my show of stretching. Her face broke into a smile and she scrambled off the bed.

"She's awake! She's awake!" Shannon shouted jubilantly all the way down the stairs.

"But I told you not to!" Peeta's horrified voice sounded from downstairs.

"I decided to surprise you."

I had to stifle a laugh by that point. This was too funny. But after some debating, I ambled downstairs.

"Happy birthday, Katniss." Peeta said, and I allowed him to peck me on the lips. Something sparked and I wanted to kiss him more, but he nodded slightly towards Shannon.

This is why I will never be having kids. They get in the way of everything. Not that I don't like Shannon- I do. She reminds me of Prim as a little girl so much that it hurts. But I am never, ever having my own kids.

"We made you cupcakes!" Shannon said proudly.

When I looked at them, my jaw dropped.

They were absolutely perfect.

Each one was so beautiful, so carefully frosted, that I didn't even want to eat them. If anything had ever been too pretty to eat, this was the final straw in that particular metaphor. Nobody had ever in their lives seen anything like these.

"Peeta, they are beautiful." I whispered reverently.

He squeezed my hand in response.

"I thought maybe we could take them into the woods and have a picnic or something." He said.

"I know somewhere better." Images of me and my father swimming and harvesting Katniss roots filled my mind.

"Better?"

"We might have to take a small hike." I answered. Shannon looked confused, then excited.

"What's a hike, Katniss? Is it fun? Will it take long?"

"I second the last question, because my idea of a long hike is probably way different than yours." Peeta said nervously.

Laughing, I playfully punched him in the arm. "It only takes an hour, Peeta, stop freaking out." He breathed a sigh of relief. That caused me to laugh harder.

"But- excepting the cupcakes, no cooking, okay? We are having a proper lunch from the woods." I announced.

"Fine, but you have to tell me where we're going first." Peeta teased.

"It's a surprise." I responded. His expression was so funny I burst into laughter again.

**Buttercup has a special message for you.**

**RAAAAWWWRRRHISSSSSSSSSmeow. *licks paw innocently while giving the death glare***

**That was cat talk. Sorry. But luckily Shannon can somehow translate cat talk. So, Buttercup's message in English is: **

**Review now or DEATH BY ME! (I bribed him with bacon. Are any other words needed?)**


	8. That Perfect Momet

**Okay fine. I gave in. I couldn't help writing another chapter. I just like writing this thing so much :) I figured that I wasn't writing this for the reviews, but for the fun of it. I mean, reviews are probably the awesomest thing ever invented, but still, it's not like I write just because I'll get reviews. So. . . the story will continue as planned. yAy!**

"I need to be alone so I can hunt. You two," I gestured towards Peeta and Shannon, "can pick strawberries. We'll need as many as we can get. I'll be back in an hour, okay?" I instructed. Both of them nodded while I headed into the woods.

Everything seems so . . . normal. So unchanged. Like nothing ever happened. It's almost ironic, how some things never change while others remain unrecognizable over time.

While retrieving my bow and sheath of arrows, I brooded over my decision to take Shannon and Peeta to the lake. Under normal circumstances, I would keep the lake a family secret. But my circumstances are definitely not normal ones. Anyone who I might have showed the lake to is either gone or dead. The lake is too good to keep a secret, and Peeta and Shannon are the closest people I have to family now.

Suddenly a lone squirrel dashed passed me and I shot it without hesitation. I grinned broadly- hunting had never felt better.

Soon, in addition to the squirrel, I had two rabbits and a wild turkey. I threw them in my game bag- which I had remembered to bring along- and started walking back towards the strawberry patch.

When I reached the patch, however, I didn't want to make my appearance just yet. An idea popped into my head, and I grinned devilishly. I climbed up a tree, trying not to make any noise. Once I'd positioned myself comfortably, I drew an arrow from my sheath. Pulling the bowstring, I released an arrow right where Peeta's hand was about to reach for another strawberry. He jumped back, startled, then lost his balance and fell over.

"Katniss!" he complained. Shannon and I cracked up. I leapt deftly from the tree, landing lightly on my feet right next to Peeta.

"What was that for?" he asked, brushing himself off.

I just shrugged, then smiled mischievously. Shannon proudly showed the bucket to me.

"Look, we gathered lots and lots of strawberries!" she said. A good gallon of strawberries sat there, practically begging to be eaten.

"We might have had more if Shannon hadn't eaten them all." Peeta rolled his eyes. She had the grace to look ashamed, but only for a second. After that, she looked ecstatic.

"Peeta ate some too!" she trilled happily. "It wasn't just me doing bad things, Katniss." I glared at Peeta.

"I might've eaten one or two. . ." he admitted sheepishly. I punched him on the arm again, which made him wince slightly. Then we started walking towards the lake.

I'd never really noticed the scenery on the trek to the lake, but now I am acutely aware of everything that crosses our path. The different trees, the smooth bunches of rocks, the moss- covered logs. I can't help admiring the uniqueness of such trivial things, how each one is always so different from the other despite being so similar.

"Are we there yet?" Shannon whined, her voice cutting into my thoughts.

"About twenty more minutes, Shannon." I answered.

"But I'm tired!" she moaned.

Peeta grinned. Then he swooped down on her and lifted her up onto his shoulders.

"It's so high from up here!" Shannon shrieked excitedly.

"Wow, Peeta, I didn't know you were so tall." I joked.

"One of these days. . ." he said threateningly.

"Are we there _now_?"

This is also why I am never having kids.

"Yes, we're here!" I sighed exasperatedly. Finally. We walked through the two willows that marked the entrance, and there the lake was. Calm and rippling in the slight spring breeze.

"How did you know this was here?" Peeta gasped.

"My father and I used to come out here when I was little." I muttered. His presence still lingered everywhere, and I wasn't really up to talking about it.

While Peeta cooked the game over a fire in the little house, I managed to coax Shannon into the water.

"It's cold!" she noted.

"You'll get used to it." I said, and pulled her in a little further. I started to teach Shannon the basics of swimming- floating, treading water, the front crawl. Surprisingly, she's a quick learner, and soon she's splashing around like she's been swimming her whole life.

When little blue tubers floated to the surface of the water, I had an idea.

"Shannon, let's play a game. Okay?" I called out to her. She swam as fast as she could over to me- which is, to say, really, really fast.

"We have to harvest these roots. See? They're called katniss, like my name. Whoever gets the most wins!" I said and immediately dived to my right. Apparently Shannon is a little competitive because a lot of shoving and slapping my hands away was involved on her part.

Obviously I had to let her win, even though I am slightly competitive myself.

"It's almost lunchtime, okay? We have to get out now." I said gently.

"No." Shannon insisted stubbornly.

"There will be cupcakes. And more strawberries." I begged.

"No."

I finally managed to lure her out of the lake with promises of Peeta coming in the water after lunch, although I highly doubt it as he can't swim very well.

Quickly, I pulled my clothes on over my dripping wet form before Peeta came out with the game.

The next few minutes were spent in a delicious haven. Seriously, since when did food taste this good? And how long has it even been since I ate a fresh meal out in the open, singing with the flavor of the forest? The game is beautifully and skillfully cooked, with a nice smoky flavor. Strawberry juice explodes in my mouth when I bite into the berry warmed by the sun.

And the cupcakes. . . they are perfect. Indescribably perfect in every way.

We spend the rest of the day swimming, eating and laughing. And for just a few hours in my life, everything was absolutely perfect.

**Okay. . . I know it's a bit rushed by the end, but I had to hurry up and publish this chapter! So. . .**

**If you reviewed, you get one of Katniss' birthday cupcakes. I know you love cupcakes. Right? Come on. . . you can't resist Peeta's cooking. . . **

**If you didn't, Shannon will release Buttercup on you. *MEOWS THREATENINGLY***


	9. Breaking Point

**I can't think of anything to say for this A/N. Most people would just tell me to write nothing. But I don't feel like writing nothing. So. . . okay, do people even read these things? Because I always do but that's just me. **

**Anyways, thank you anon, my 20th reviewer! YAY! I didn't think I'd ever get that far! You get a special thank you from Buttercup and Shannon!**

**Mrrrrroooow! *Jumps in your lap and looks all innocent and cute***

**Shannon translates that as: Thank you for being the awesomest person alive. And you rock! **

**Every tenth reviewer gets something special. . . so the 30th reviewer, if we ever get there, gets to pick an important plot point to incorporate into the story. For example, Gale comes back, Haymitch dies. . . whatever. Hopefully your ideas will be more creative than my examples. . . lol :) **

**Looks like I did find something to say. . . okay sorry. Shutting up. ;) Sorry this was so long.**

"Grandma! Grandma, guess what?" Shannon babbled so fast that her words were indiscernible.

"Sorry we kept her for so long." Peeta apologized to Greasy Sae.

"It's all right. Seems like you took good care of her, at any rate." She said, leading Shannon inside the house.

"Wait!" Shannon cried and ran outside to give us each one last hug. She threw her arms around my waist, smiling happily. I didn't bother to return the hug.

"Bye." My words sounded so distant and uncaring, even to me. Luckily Shannon didn't notice. . . at least, I hope so. But my mind was already thousands of miles away. I can't believe that I let myself get attached to her. She'll probably end up dying or leaving and become another empty hole in my chest. . .

Just like everyone else.

And right now, I don't want to be with anyone. Not even Peeta.

But when I try to walk in ahead of him- which should have sent the message that I don't feel like talking- he catches up with me. God. Is being alone too much to ask, or what?

"Peeta, go away." I snapped irritably. Not surprisingly, he didn't back off.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing. Leave me alone." I started to run, but he caught my arm and held me there.

"Let me go!" I shrieked, trying desperately to wriggle out of his grasp. Damn. I had no idea Peeta was actually this strong.

"Not until you talk." He answered simply. Anger boiled up inside my chest, causing my line of sight to take on a red tint.

"Everything! Everything in my whole damn life is wrong!" I burst out angrily.

Peeta waited for further explanation. Enough rage burned in me to push me into telling him.

"I can't take it anymore! The nightmares, people wanting to use me. Because all that it does is kill off more people. Everyone in my life that I cared about ended up dead. What point is there in getting attached to more people? Maybe I should just end up a social outcast like Haymitch." I glowered at Peeta. For some reason, I felt that this was all his fault. Even though there is nothing to blame, I feel an inexplicable need to blame something. Anything.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I pretty much lost everyone too?" he says sadly. M shock quickly turns to anger. How can he compare his circumstances to mine? I am suffering way more than he ever will.

"That's different. You never cared about your family." I hissed, but instantly regretted it. I knew that I'd hit a nerve when his face grows hard, a sight I've never seen on Peeta's face before. Not even when I'd snapped at him a few days ago about not coming when he heard me screaming. I'd taken it much too far this time.

Then he laughs. But it isn't a happy laugh. This laugh is one that sounds unbelieving and cruel and anrgy all at the same time.

"I can't believe how selfish you are. Look, maybe my brothers weren't the nicest. Maybe my mother was a complete bitch. Maybe my dad was the only one who remotely cared about me. But they were still my family. At least you still have your mother, even if she lives in another district now. You still have Haymitch, and me. Why can't that be enough for you?" he spat furiously.

I gasped. The _nerve_ of him to talk about me like that. Peeta wouldn't dare. But he just did. I'd driven him to a point where he just couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't deal with me one more time. And why should he? It isn't like I'm completely helpless. I can take care of myself, can't I?

"I don't have you anymore. They took you away a long time ago." My words sounded cold, unforgiving, and harsh. But I couldn't bring myself to regret them- at least, not while I'm so enraged.

Peeta's eyes widen in shock. For a tiny second, I feel bad. Because when I look deep into his eyes, I see something break. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something that nobody has ever managed to crack just shatters. So Peeta really does have a breaking point- and the only person who could have touched it is me.

After this thought occurs, Peeta lets go of my arm like I burned him. Which I may as well have, only not in a physical sense . Then he stalks off, leaving me completely and utterly alone.

**I know. Go ahead and say it- Katniss is a complete jerk. I had to make up for the OOCness at some point, though. Plus I had to fit a fight in there. It wouldn't be right if they just kissed and made up and act like nothing ever happened, you know? **

**So, if you reviewed, Shannon will give you a big hug and an extra cookie. **

**If you didn't, then Katniss will take out her anger on you with a bow and arrow! MWAHAHAHA! And nobody wants to mess with an angry Katniss, right?**


	10. Missing the Boy with the Bread

**Wow. . . so I reached 30 reviews way faster than expected! Thank you Peeniss0314! And now I'll have to announce what the 40th reviewer gets. . . **

**Um. Give me some time. Next chapter, okay? :)**

Two weeks.

That's how long it has been since Peeta and I fought. And how long it's been since we haven't spoken to each other at all.

I know that I should apologize. Most of what I said to him I recognize as unforgiveable. I definitely wouldn't forgive him if he had said any of that to me. But somehow, I can't bring myself to walk the five steps it takes to get to his house. Maybe because I'm scared that this time, he won't forgive me. Maybe we're over. . . really over.

I'm so stubbornly convinced that this is the case that I forget any chance of reconnecting and sink back into the numbing world of depression I'd accustomed myself to. Shannon and Greasy Sae come every morning, but I ignore their futile attempts at a conversation.

More and more of my time is spent with Haymitch. We don't talk, but merely sit together in silence. Sometimes I take a few swigs of liquor, but I can't get much in edgewise because he is too bust drinking himself.

"He comes here, you know." He mentions one day.

"I know." I say, but don't supply anything else. Really, though, I'm not surprised. Because no matter what happens, Haymitch will always be our mentor. We'll always be coming to him when we need advice. When we're hurting. Even if it's subconscious.

"It takes a lot to break him like you did, sweetheart." He takes another sip from the liquor bottle.

"I know." I said again, this time accompanied with a small sigh.

"He brings the little girl sometimes. She's smart. Knows what she's doing. You should talk to her." He says.

That brings me up short. Haymitch is praising Shannon? And telling me to talk to her. What advice could a six-year-old girl give me when it comes to Peeta and I? Because even Haymitch himself has trouble keeping us together.

A knock on the door made me jump. I found that my heart was pounding at the thought of who might be at that door.

"You can get that." Haymitch muttered.

"But what if it's Peeta?" I fretted.

"Just open the damn door, you have to get over your aversion to him anyways!" the intensity of his voice surprised me.

"It's not my aversion to him, it's his aversion to me!" I shouted.

"He doesn't. . ." Haymitch began, but when another more insistent knock sounded, I ran. Even though running away is such a childish, cowardly thing to do, I couldn't help it. I'm not ready to face him yet.

I planned to go into the woods, but curiosity got the better of me and I stood at the window to listen to the conversation.

"What was that?" Peeta asked. His voice. . . I realized that I've actually missed it.

"Just Katniss. She ran away." Haymitch answered. Then, as if an afterthought, he added, "Idiot."

Punching Haymitch in the face seems like a pretty good option right now. But I can't, because once again, he's right. Damn. If there is one thing I hate, it's when Haymitch is right.

"You haven't talked to her yet." He continued.

"No. How are you supposed to talk to someone who won't listen?" Peeta replies somewhat bitterly.

"How do you know she won't listen if you haven't talked to her yet?" Haymitch counters.

"Because she hates me." He says as if it's obvious.

"She doesn't hate you. Not as far as I'm concerned. She misses you." Haymitch shrugged.

What? I didn't tell him that! But, when I think about it, maybe I do. Miss Peeta, I mean. Because if I don't have him, I don't have anyone. I wonder if, when I watched Peeta break, something broke in me, too. Something deep down that I didn't know of. Something only he can fix.

Footsteps announced Peeta's departure from Haymitch's house. It took only a split second for me to know what that meant for me. So I took off, running, and the door of my house had just slammed when Peeta came out.

But I think he saw me.

Somehow, my night wasn't riddled with terrible nightmares. My dreams that night were just. . . dreams. Normal ones that you forgot almost as soon as they occurred. Just random bits and pieces- my meeting spot with Gale, the lake, my District covered in ashes. Finally, I was able to sleep.

I woke up, startled, to the sound of screaming.

But it wasn't mine.

**Cliffhangers are my best friends! Sorry. I know it's totally mean of me to leave you hanging. . . but I'll probably update tomorrow. **

**If you reviewed, Buttercup likes you!**

**If you didn't review, he will kill you with his amazing cat-karate skills.**


	11. My Little Wise Owl

**Two in one day again! YAY! I won't bother you by talking when I left you with a cliffhanger last time. . . so here you go!**

**Oh. . . one more thing. . . this chapter will be dedicated to Peeniss0314. Thanks for the amazing ideas!**

**And whoever signed their review as 13lexicon04. . . LOVE THE NAME! ;) You're awesome!**

Someone is screaming downstairs. Who. . . who in the world?

Then I recognize the voice. It's the voice of a little girl. And the only little girl who would be at my house at seven o' clock in the morning is. . .

"Shannon." I whispered.

However fast I might run down the stairs, it can't be fast enough. My heart pounds wildly at the thought of what I might see down there. And when I do see, it almost stops. Because Greasy Sae is lying on the ground convulsing with pain.

"Oh my god, what happened!" I yelled. Shannon stopped screaming and started crying instead.

"Grandma fell!" she sobbed. I dropped down to Greasy Sae's side, but her pulse was very faint. Peeta unexpectedly burst into the kitchen. But I wasn't paying attention to him- at least, not for the time being.

"Take care of her." Greasy Sae rasped, gesturing to Shannon. I nodded in unison with Peeta, although I didn't like it. Both of us have to? Why can't I take care of a child on my own? I did it before, after my father died. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried not to let my thoughts stray towards Prim.

"And you two." Greasy Sae gestured towards Peeta and I. Oh, damn. I can sense what's coming next.

"You'd better end up together or I am going to haunt you forever." She rolled her eyes, then they squinted in pain. Despite the situation, my face flushed tomato red. Greasy Sae laughed at that. Then her eyes shut and she breathed her last.

Shannon cries grew louder. I guess it's my job to comfort her now. So I held the child close and stroked her hair while she wept.

"We should bury her outside." Peeta suggested. I nodded but refused to look at him, and all three of us buried Greasy Sae. We made her grave under one of the primrose bushes which had just started to bud.

"Bye-bye, Grandma." Shannon sniffed. I can't really blame her for crying so much- she just watched her own Grandma die. It has to be traumatic, especially for a six-year-old.

"Do you think. . . do you think that maybe Grandma will hear me if I talk to this flower bush?" she turned her round, tearful eyes to me.

"No. Those are Prim's bushes." I snapped, a little more harshly than I intended.

Shannon looked startled and hurt.

"But maybe you can talk to the sky. Because now she lives up there, in a better place. Okay?" I said more gently. Apparently this compensated for my break in composure and Shannon nodded understandingly.

"I'll go then." Peeta said and walked somewhat dejectedly towards his house. When the door slammed behind him, I flinched.

"Being away from you makes him sad." Shannon noted.

"What?" I ask, startled.

"You and Peeta are sad when you aren't together." She said simply.

The fact that a six-year-old is so observant and aware of someone's emotional state surprised me. Usually young kids are so blissfully unaware of everything around them- they are in their own little world. But with Shannon, that isn't the case.

"Well, sometimes Peeta and I have to, um, take breaks from each other." I said carefully. I didn't really want Shannon to know that we've been fighting.

"But when you take breaks, you aren't happy. So breaks don't really do anything good." Again, the awareness of this girl amazes me.

"You're right." I sighed.

"So you should go talk to him." Shannon concluded.

"Later, okay? Right now we have to get your stuff from your old house and move them over to mine." I say.

"I'm living with you now?" Shannon gasps, eyes wide with excitement.

"Yes. Your grandma said that we should look after you." For some reason I felt I had to substantiate the answer.

The next hour was spent moving all of Shannon's things into my house. I gave her Prim's old room, which was the one right next to mine. Being in the room brought back old memories, some which I didn't want to remember, but I did my best to ignore them.

On our last trip, we were both satisfied with our work. But when we entered the house, someone was already there.

"Hi, Peeta! We're done." Shannon announced.

"Um, hi. I didn't know you were coming." I whispered quietly, still avoiding his eyes.

"Well, somebody has to cook for you and Shannon now that you're looking after her." He said coldly.

"No." I looked him directly in the eye as I said it. "_We _are looking after her."

And for the first time in two weeks, I saw him smile.

**Read and review please! I'm trying for 50+ reviews. . . is that too high? Please help me reach my goal. . . :)**


	12. Reconciliation

**Hey! Okay, so I never said what the 40th reviewer gets. Sorry. But since we're at like 39 now (SQUEAL!) I'll have to say it at some point.**

**SO, the 40th reviewer gets to pick a character to be in the story. It could be a made-up character or a real one making a reappearance. My only request is PLEASE do NOT pick Gale! I really can't afford all those complications right now. . . and I know most of you are so eager to see Katniss & Peeta grow back together, which Gale would not help with at all. **

**Also, it would help if it weren't a dead character. I don't have time to invent a story on how they faked their death and are coming back to. . . do whatever. I'm not leaving you with many options here. . . sorry again! Now, on with the story! :D **

Raising Shannon has been much easier than expected. I thought she would be difficult- demanding something of Peeta and I every minute, pouting when she didn't get what she wanted, etc. But she hasn't acted as such at all. In fact, she is actually nice to be around sometimes. Especially when she isn't talking, which is one of her favorite activities.

I think it's good to have a child in the house again. It helps me keep a grip on reality, because I can't afford to slip away again. I'll never make Shannon go through what I did when my father died and my mother left us.

Peeta and I are on speaking terms again, but that's as far as we've gotten. Everything is so formal and somewhat forced. I'm careful never to end up in a room alone with him for fear of what he might say. Because if he says what I think he will, then I'm over. But I want to talk to him so badly. Hear his voice, bright and gentle and teasing, instead of distantly polite.

I'm broken out of my reverie by Shannon's sweet little voice.

"Katniss, I'm going over to Haymitch's house." She announced.

"What? Not without me or Peeta!" I exclaimed. He might try to give her white liquor as a joke.

"Peeta is going with me. He's meeting me outside." She explained.

"Oh. Well, um, have a good time, then." I said, a bit perplexed.

Shannon nodded and skipped out of the door. Sometimes I wonder if Haymitch and Shannon actually enjoy each other's company. She never seems to mind going over there and he never complains about it, which I find slightly strange. Not suspicious, but just the fact that Haymitch may have a soft spot for someone strikes me as. . . well, weird. There isn't any other way to put it.

Slowly, I meander up the stairs and go to my room. The house feels too empty without Shannon or Peeta around. So to block out the silence, I take a shower even though I washed my hair last night. It's easier to pretend that the general sounds of a household are filling the silence when the sound of water blocks out everything else.

Once my hair has been braided back wet, the silence overwhelms me again. So I go back to imagining Prim talking to me.

"Katniss, look! I taught Buttercup how to roll over! Isn't he smart?" she gushed happily. What is it with happiness these days? Why is there always so much of it and in abundance? It's as if no other thing in the world exists.

"Yeah, he's smart, but I'll still cook him one of these days." I said vaguely, a dreamy quality clouding my eyes.

"NO! You can't cook Buttercup! I can't believe you said that! I'm telling mom. . ." then she broke off laughing.

The sound of my door opening registered. "They're back so soon." Prim noted.

"I know. . ." I frowned. Maybe Haymitch kicked them out. Or he just passed out.

"Well, go to them and find out why." Prim persisted, so I went, for her sake. But if I had my way I'd stay on my bed.

Peeta was in the kitchen, but Shannon had conveniently disappeared.

"Where's Shannon?" I said, forcing myself to speak to him.

"Isn't she with you?" he asked.

"No, she was going with you to Haymitch's. . ." I trailed off.

"If she was, then she didn't tell me." He shrugged as if it couldn't possibly matter.

"She's there _alone_?" I nearly shrieked.

"Calm down, Katniss. Shannon will be fine. Haymitch won't try anything, not with her. She knows what she's doing, you now, she's pretty bright for her age." Peeta remarked. My shoulders relaxed slightly. He's right. Shannon will be fine with Haymitch. Maybe I worry too much about her. . .

"Anyways, maybe it's best. . . if she were gone for a while. We have to talk." He said slowly, and dread flooded through me. My shoulders tensed up again, even more than before.

"Don't." I whispered softly, but not enough for him to hear.

"What?" he asked.

"I just. . . I don't want you to say. . . I mean. . . I just missed you." I said in the tiniest voice possible. My face burned with embarrassment and shame.

Peeta's face remains unreadable as he watches mine. I scuff the ground with the toe of my boot, refusing to meet his gaze.

His next words took my breath away. "I missed you too."

**Cliffy. . . :) I know. I've finally given you the moment of reconciliation and I stop it here. I'm evil! No overripe bananas please, but any other food thrown at me is welcome, so long as it tastes good and I can eat it afterwards. R&R PLEASE!**


	13. You Love Me

**Chapter 13. . . I can't believe I'm already that far! :) I'm so excited! And almost 50 reviews. You guys have been amazing! Thank you! **

"Really?" I squeaked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Really." He replied, smiling.

I swear I'd never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. So, without hesitation, I flung myself into his arms.

"I'm sorry." I whispered into his neck.

"It's okay." He said, his breath tickling my ear.

All of a sudden I can't believe that Peeta is here. Solid. Real. That he's actually holding me here in the kitchen, stroking my hair, and willing to forgive me. He's mine. The thought actually makes me laugh because I'm so happy.

"What's so funny?" Peeta asks, confused. I pull back, but keep my hands around his neck.

"You love me." I said wonderingly.

"I do." He smiled, and brought my lips to his.

And then I feel it.

The hunger that overtook me on the beach in the arena. This time, I give in completely. Not for the cameras or to convince the Districts of our act. But for me.

Hot desire tingles through me and I automatically wrap my legs around his waist. Never has anything ever felt so natural. So. . . right.

When we finally break away, Peeta asks, "You love me. Real or not Real?"

And I say, "Real."

I've never seen him happier than he was at that moment. Most likely because I'm finally giving him what he wants- something he's wanted since he was five years old. But now, I'm finally getting what I want, too. My dandelion, the sign of hope. The hope that everything will be all right once more. And no matter how bad it gets now, Peeta will always be there. I'll never be left on my own again.

"Finally- the lovebirds hooked up." Someone's snide voice said from behind me.

"Oh!" I said, untangling myself from Peeta and turning around to see who it was.

Johanna Mason stood a few feet away, with an exasperated yet somewhat triumphant expression.

"Um, hi." I mumbled, blushing furiously.

"Hey. So, do I get like a 'Welcome back from the dad' or a 'It's nice to see you?'" Johanna rolled her eyes.

I didn't really know how to respond, so I just shrugged.

"Really. I got a better greeting from Haymitch." She sighed.

"You. . . went over to Haymitch's?"I choked. Somehow the two of them don't mix in my head very well.

"Duh, brainless. Just because you've never seen us together doesn't mean we haven't known each other for years." She rolled her eyes again. I wondered how her eyes refrain from just rolling around in her head full-time.

I decided to ignore her remark. "So, when did you get here?"

"A hovercraft came about two hours ago and dropped off a whole bunch of people, so I decided to drop by before I went back home." She explained. Huh. So somewhere in there Johanna really does care about us. . . in her own bizarre way.

"So. . . umm. . ." I trailed off awkwardly. Making conversation has never really been my strong suit.

"Dinner is in an hour. We'll be coming soon. . . okay? I guess you two have better things to do." Johanna winked.

"What? You can't just invite yourself!" I said incredulously even though I didn't really care.

"Well, I just did. See you later!" she laughed and walked off.

"So, where were we?" I smiled, wrapping my arms around Peeta's neck again. He kisses me in response. After a minute or so, though, he pulls away.

"I have to start on dinner. . ." he said.

"Please? One more?" I begged, and he surrendered with a groan.

"Katniss, we have the rest of the night, okay? Just wait until after dinner." He says finally.

"We have the rest of the night?" A smile creeps up on my face.

"Yes. And the next one. . . and the next one. . ." he grins.

"Fine. Promise?" I ask, looking him straight in the eye.

"Promise." Peeta says, and I give him one more kiss before he starts working.

**Sorry this chapter is so ridiculously short. Writer's block. . . GRRRRR. . . :( Anyways, I hope you liked this one! Especially the return of Johanna. . . 3 her! As usual, R&R! love your feedback, it really means a lot to me. Every review makes me so excited. **


	14. I'll Always Be There

**Okay, I have a question- sex scene, or no sex scene? If you agree, then I won't go into detail, don't worry. :)I'll skip over the actual, um, you know. *awkward silence.* **

**Anyways. . . *drum roll* . . .54 reviews! *HUGS YOU TO DEATH* Thank you guys! You're the best! **

I've never really known how to participate in a dinner conversation. And every time I have, it was about strategy for the Games. Now that the advantage of a conversation topic has been taken away, I just sit silently and listen to everyone else.

Unfortunately, I'm the only one. Everyone else is happily talking, laughing, and teasing each other. A sense of isolation would threaten to overpower me if it weren't for Peeta's hand wrapped around mine.

I wonder why everyone pretends to be normal. Because we aren't. We are all so riddled with scars that inside, none of us are remotely recognizable. But somehow, life goes on, and one day we learn to live with the scars. And when that happens depends on your willingness to move on and accept your past. What happened has happened and nothing we can do changes that. Even so, by doing that, we've accepted our identity.

Right now, acting normal is probably the only thing left we have to do. It helps us remember those days when we weren't so. . . messed up.

When this understanding finally worked its way into my brain, a sense of peace crept over me. Peeta is here, and as long as he is, everything will be all right. A smile stole its way across my face, and I quickly sucked my head so nobody would see it.

Too late.

"What's so funny, Girl on Fire? You remembering having sex with him?" Johanna laughed.

"Oh! We weren't. . . um. . ." I trailed off awkwardly.

"Right. _Sure_ you weren't. You can go on telling that to yourself. . . until you get knocked up, for real. Then you'll have to accept reality." She shrugged, smiling .

For some reason, her know-it-all attitude irritated me. Every curse word I knew dared to fly off the tip of my tongue, but I held it all in a death glare.

Obviously, this failed to even faze Johanna.

"You'd better be careful. She threw a knife at me once." Haymitch warned.

"Cool. When?" Johanna asked curiously.

"Hmmm. . . it was the first day I met her? On the train to the Capitol during her first Games." He answered.

Johanna snickered at that. "Wow. So, she even got down everybody's throats from the first day, didn't she?"

Unsurprisingly, I didn't like the sudden turn of conversation.

Then, all of a sudden, Peeta let go of my hand. When I peered at them questioningly, I saw them ball into tightly wound fists.

Damnit.

Peeta gets up and leaves the table. But this time I don't let him go, I follow. I find him sitting on the couch, breathing heavily, eyes wild and tortured.

"Peeta, look at me." I said gently, sitting next to him on the couch. He flinches at my close proximity.

"Look at me." I commanded, more forcefully this time. He does, but the gaze resting on me resentful and angry.

"Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real. Okay? It's just an illusion." I spoke in a soothing voice, one I might use on Prim when she's had a nightmare.

"_You_ aren't an illusion." He whispered hostilely.

"No. But no matter what you see in me, it's not true." I replied.

"How should I know?" he answered, glaring at me.

"Peeta, please. Please come back." I begged, tears building up in my eyes. I've never felt so helpless in my life. What if he never comes back? What if. . .

Peeta unexpectedly grabs my shoulders, pinching them painfully. "What are you still doing here?" he snarled.

Then, I do the only thing that comes to mind. I kiss him. At first, he stiffens angrily and refused to kiss me back. Then he gasps and pulls away.

"Katniss." He says, looking slightly confused. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Hi." I reply, but my voice is trembling. He buries his face in his hands.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry." He mutters.

"It's okay. It's over now." I whispered comfortingly.

"No, it isn't. I could have hurt you. I could have. . ." he started, but I cut him off.

"Peeta. It's all right. We're together on this now, okay? We'll figure something out." I said.

"Together." He agreed, and in his arms, I found more comforted than ever.

***Sob.* That's all I have to say. How on earth do you write this stuff and not cry afterwards? **

**I don't know how everyone does it. **


	15. The Victor's Bond

**I know some of you are wondering where Shannon went. . . and she's still there, I just can't figure out what to do with her character now that Katniss and Peeta are together. In any case, the main focus of the story is on them and not Shannon. She'll still make occasional appearances, but right now she isn't so important. **

**And the 70th reviewer gets to decided whether or not Gale should come back and start dating Johanna. . . **

**So, on with the story! :) And sorry if it seems a little rushed. **

Nowadays, the woods are my only quiet place. After Peeta moved in, every day has become a struggle to figure out a routine. Who gets to shower first in the morning, which one has to wake Shannon up each day, who should make breakfast. Between the two, Shannon and Peeta, I don't get much solitude. I love them both, but I need my time alone.

My senses flood with the familiar essence of the woods. Energy and adrenaline shot through my veins at the prospect of hunting. Ten minutes later, I caught a flock of wild turkey in the passing. Eyed the three plump birds approvingly. Then stuffed them into my game bag and continued in search of more game. Suddenly, something rustled behind me. Something big- maybe deer? Wild dog?

Without thinking, I shot the arrow, which pegged the tree a millimeter from Johanna Mason's head.

Shock flitted across her face, but only for a second before she regained her composure.

"Your accuracy is amazing. If only this were the Games, and you could really kill me." She remarked sardonically.

"I could right now." I replied with equal sarcasm, reaching for another arrow.

"No thanks." She said hurriedly.

I raised my eyebrows.

"What I mean is, that I've already died before, you know? I'm not in a hurry to do it again." She explained. That might be one of the first things she's said to me that isn't sarcastic. But I didn't exactly know how to reply to her, so I waited for further explanation.

"We all died at some point. Us victors. The moment we got reaped, when we had our first kill. Our old selves died. And we've all died so many times that what remains is. . . well, shattered. But we survive. And now, well, death either seems more terrifying or less intimidating." She said, with a just the tiniest hint of sadness.

"Wise words, for someone who can't go five minutes without giving me death threats." I teased.

Johanna cracked a smile. A real one. "I've had a lot of time to think about it."

"You're right, though." I said, and the words even surprised me.

"Of course I'm right." Johanna gave me the signature roll of her eyes.

We both laughed, and I felt another barrier between us break. I gave her a tour of the woods, and it turns out that she can actually be decent sometimes. You've just got to figure out how to break her shell, although I think the woods remind her of home.

"You aren't half bad." I admitted later.

"You aren't bad yourself, but if you tell anyone I said that, I'll knock your teeth out." She responded casually.

I realized that her sardonic manner might come around because she's afraid to get close to someone. _There's no one left I love,_ she had said. Maybe she's scared that if she starts attaching to someone that they'll be taken away as well. It's a feeling all victors can relate to, and I think it's what bonds us together. Someone who can relate to you is the person you need most in your life.

And perhaps, in a strange, twisted way, Johanna and I need each other in our lives.

As we stroll out of the woods in the dying afternoon light, she starts walking the other way.

"The Victors' Village is this way." I called.

"I know. I'm leaving now." She called back.

Oh. I know what that means. She's really leaving- leaving for her home.

"Bye, Mockingjay!" she said, her voice becoming fainter.

"You'll visit?" I ask desperately.

"If you do!" she said, and with that her voice faded.

I realize how much I don't want to say goodbye to Johanna, especially after today. I need someone tough and dependable on my side. But home is home, and I can't deny her that.

I'll miss her.

Hastily, I shove those thoughts out of my head. We'll see each other again, or Johanna would have to kill me. Besides, I have Peeta and Haymitch and Shannon now.

When I arrive at my house, I turn and instead enter Haymitch's house as opposed to my own. For some reason, I have to be with someone who understands.

"Hi." I announced myself glumly.

"Hey, sweetheart. More by trouble?" he asked, but I chose to ignore that remark.

So in silence we sat, which is more words than we'll ever need.

**This was a sort of unnecessary chapter, but I felt I should capture the essence of Katniss and Johanna's relationship. I think it's important to portray the victors together and how they have that sort of invisible bond. **

**Anyways. . . R&R, people! I appreciate every review that I get, please give me some feedback! You guys have been absolutely A-M-A-Z-I-N-G so far, thank you for that! **

**Mwah :)**


	16. Waking You Up

***IMPORTANT***

**I'm sorry it took so long to update! Well, longer than usual anyways. Some people have been asking for longer chapters in between longer waits instead of shorter chapters with shorter waits. So I made this chapter longer as a sort of tester. Tell me which one you would prefer, the shorter ones or the longer ones! **

Dreamless sleeps have faded into nonexistence over the past few years. I am either plagued by nightmares or simple, plain dreams. But a dreamless sleep? Unheard of.

Until this night.

Tonight, wrapped in Peeta's arms, I find a sleep so blissfully deep that I never want to wake up again. I've forgotten what it's like to really, really get a good night's rest. It always seemed something like a luxury- one I could never afford to have.

When I wake up around midnight, I almost feel disappointed. Then a contentment settled over me. My hand curled around Peeta's, even though he's still sleeping, just for the comfort and reassurance he brings. Honestly, I don't know how he deals with everything and can still keep his cool. . . well, in most situations. He probably hurts just as much as I do and he didn't fall to pieces like me.

As I watch, Peeta's muscles slowly start tensing up. For a split second, I think it's another flashback. Then I notice that his eyes are still closed. He starts breathing heavily and his fingers are clenching and unclenching really fast. What's wrong? Is it just a flashback and he's just closing his eyes, or. . .? I'm at loss at what to do. Rousing him is not the best idea, especially since the possibility that he might attack me still remains.

When I finally figure out what's wrong, I feel so stupid. It's completely obvious. Why didn't I think of this before? Peeta's having a nightmare. He just doesn't go completely ballistic like I do when I have nightmares. Once again, I don't know how he does it. Peeta is so much more sane than I am, probably. Definitely.

I watch him for a minute, sort of fascinated. Then I realize it's cruel to just leave him there having a nightmare while I'm sitting here and watching.

"Peeta. Peeta, wake up." I said, shaking his shoulder. Nothing happens, only I think his pulse gets quicker.

"Wake up, please." I can hear the desperation creeping into my voice. His breathing becomes much faster. When he starts shaking, it's all I can do from going into a full-scale panic mode.

"Peeta, wake UP!" I scream, punching his arm. Then, at last, his eyes fly open. For one terrifying moment I don't recognize the wide, scared blue irises. They look almost wild, crazed. I've never seen them like that. Peeta's doesn't get scared. . .

Almost without thinking, I bury my face in Peeta's chest. Relief washes over me when it hits me that he's safe. So we simply hold each other until his trembling passes.

"It was really bad this time, wasn't it?" I asked, referring to his nightmares.

"Yes." He answered shortly. I could tell he didn't feel like talking about it. This is one thing I could definitely understand.

"Why does my arm hurt?" he asks after a while, which makes the rare laugh fall out of my lips.

"I might have punched you." I confessed.

"Why did you punch me?" he inquires, puzzled.

"I panicked because you weren't waking up."I replied, sill laughing. For some reason the whole idea of me punching Peeta's arm in a moment of desperation is funny to me. Usually in such a situation I would be trying to protect him from any punching whatsoever.

"I'm awake now." He grinned, and suddenly I became aware of how close we were. Our noses are almost touching. Immediately my heart began to pound, and I was sure he could hear it. _Shut up, shut up,_ I willed it silently, but obviously it didn't pay any attention to me.

Then the remaining space between our lips is gone, and I'm sucked into a world that seems to beautiful to be true. And for the first time, I know what I had gotten myself into when I said "Real." But I don't care.

This kiss is different from all the rest. It isn't angry or sad or desirous. It's just a plain, simple, tender kiss. The pure beauty of it shines through the lack of intensity and passion. This is a kiss that means the world to me. I remember what Peeta said, a long time ago, while we were on the roof. "_I wish I could freeze this moment right here, right now, and live in it forever."_ He had said. Now I know exactly what he meant.

"Go back to sleep, Katniss." He tells me gently once he pulls away.

"No." I refuse, and cling to him tighter.

"Katniss, you need rest." He tried again.

"No, I don't." I insisted stubbornly.

He started to say something, but I stopped him with a kiss. This one lasted much longer and it felt so good.

"Please?" I begged. Peeta sighed but nevertheless started kissing me again. Something stirred in my chest, burning hot and sending a tingling sensation all throughout my body. My kisses grew more insistent, like he might stop this and leave any minute. But I highly doubt it.

"You can't just take advantage of me like that." Peeta frowned.

"Try me." I grinned, bringing myself on top of him so I'm straddling his waist.

"I'm not saying I don't want to, but. . ." he trailed off, struggling for words.

"But what?" I asked, leaning in closer so our faces are only inches apart.

"Katniss." He groaned, relenting to me. My fingers tangled into his hair as I drew him closer. But, once again, he pulled away. I was starting to get irritated. Could we get on with it already?

"You'll hate me in the morning." He whispered.

"No I won't. You think I'd do this if I thought that was the case?" I said as if it was obvious.

"Um. . . well. . . yes." He admitted.

I thought that over for a moment. He's right- I am impulsive. I would just do this out of the blue, maybe. But this is different. I'm sure of this now.

"Peeta, I want this." I told him.

"You won't regret it later?" he asked cautiously.

"I'd never regret this." I answered sincerely, bringing my lips to his once more.

This time, there weren't any interruptions.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm so contentedly happy I can practically feel my skin buzzing. For a while I just soak everything in, eyes closed and a smile on my face. Memories of last night filled my mind, making my smile grow wider. I had never, ever felt so loved in my entire life.

Slowly, I slide off of the bed, and ignore the pain that throbs every time I take a step. In the bathroom, I take my time showering, brushing my teeth and getting dressed. It seems like my whole life has been so rushed- moving from one place to the next without any transition. Right now, I just want to go slow. For the simple reason that I can.

When I open the door, Peeta is standing right there. Just the sight of him sends something I can't name shooting through my veins.

"Hi." He said. Is it just me or does he sound nervous?

"Hi." I say, giving him a long, lingering kiss.

"So. . . I'm guessing you don't hate me." He grinned.

"Why would I hate you? Last night was. . .amazing."I told him. And I meant it, too.

"I know. You should wake me up more often." he teased.

"I should." I answered seriously.

Peeta laughed and kissed me one more time before I headed downstairs. Shannon was already down there, talking with someone else I never expected to see.

"Johanna? What are you doing back here already?"I asked, surprised.

"Hey, Mockingjay." She greeted, ignoring my question. I don't particularly like this but I join them at the table anyways.

"Hi, Katniss. What's a mockingjay?" Shannon inquired curiously.

"It's a type of bird who can replicate a human singing." I replied.

"Like, it copies your voice?"

"Sort of." I said, and Johanna stifled a laugh. I had to wonder what Shannon will end up like if she keeps hanging around Haymitch and Johanna.

"You should ask Katniss to sing to one for you. They just love her voice, don't they?" Johanna told Shannon, directing the last comment at me. I glared daggers at her.

"Would you?" Shannon pleaded, her adoring brown eyes widening in excitement.

"Um, maybe some other time." I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, although I had the decency to feel guilty when Shannon's shoulders slumped with disappointment. A knock at the door broke through the slightly awkward silence, and I rushed gratefully to get it.

Greasy Sae was my first thought, but then I realized she was dead. I peeped through the little hole in the door to see who it was. And when I did, I very nearly came close to falling over in shock.

"Has that hot cousin of yours made an appearance?" Johanna called from the kitchen.

She had absolutely no idea just how right she was.

**Cliffhanger AGAIN! I'm sooooorrryyyy. . . but I couldn't help it :) **

**Please give me some feedback! Is it good? Bad? Terrible? Brilliant? Just click the blue button and tell me what you think. . .**


	17. An Unexpected Visitor

**Hey! Sorry it took so long to update. . . apparently some people liked the longer chapters and some liked the shorter ones. So, I guess I'll be doing a little bit of both. Some will be short, some long, blah blah. It doesn't really matter so much :)**

**You know what I find strange? How come 'Katniss & Peeta's Daughter' and 'Katniss and Peeta's son' is on the character list but not Finnick & Annie's son? Has this even occurred to anyone else? **

**I think all authors have been cursed with insatiable curiosity. **

Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I opened the door.

"Hi." I eyed him warily.

"Hey, Catnip." He replied, regarding me just as cautiously as I was regarding him.

"Gale. What exactly are you doing here?" I said through gritted teeth, trying really hard not to get angry. Although so far I'm not doing very well. I'm sure it shows on my face.

"I just came to see you. Not really a crime, Catnip." He teased lightly, but the smile was quickly wiped off his face.

"It may as well be, especially when I end up freaking murdering you." My voice rose a few octaves.

I remember our last meeting, right before I assassinated Coin. Then, I had been too depressed to feel anything about his connection to Prim's death. She was gone, and that was that. But now I'm angry. How dare he kill such an innocent girl, how dare he have put her in danger, which resulted in her death.

"Why are you going to murder me?" he had the audacity to ask. Then I lost it.

"BECAUSE YOU KILLED MY SISTER, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Swearing had never felt so damn satisfying.

"I didn't know she would be down there, Katniss! You think I would have put her life in danger?" He yelled.

"You probably would have! You don't care, do you? You're just another fucking idiot who came into my fucking life and ruined anything that was even remotely FUCKING PERFECT!" I shrieked.

I heard Shannon ask Johanna what the word 'fucking' meant. Part of me wanted to laugh, but anger still dominated.

"So, do you have anything to say for yourself?" I sneered at Gale. I am so mad I could hit him, but I still have just enough sense in me to refrain so Shannon wouldn't pick it up.

"I don't know. . . I knew you'd be mad at me." He shrugged.

"Why did you come, then? It was obviously a waste of a trip." I stated coldly.

Shannon picked that moment to appear at the door, peering out from behind my legs. Despite the situation, Gale's expression was priceless.

"Oh. She's not yours. . . that's Greasy Sae's granddaughter." He said, relieved.

"You'd better enjoy my childless state while you can." I replied bitterly. I just remembered that Peeta and I didn't use protection last night.

All of a sudden I feel like swearing again.

Then I realize I'd said the wrong thing, because for the first time today, Gale looked furious.

"You have seriously been sleeping with him. You freaking fucked the Bread Boy." He spat.

"And since when is it any of your business whatsoever who I'm _fucking_, Gale?" I asked furiously. By now Johanna had entered the room and was looking from person to person with great interest, and I could practically see her putting the puzzle pieces together.

"Let me handle this, Mockingjay. I'm more than a match for your cousin." Johanna tugged on Gale's arm and pulled him outside, shutting the door behind her.

A minute or so later, Peeta came down the stairs.

"Where have _you_ been?" I said accusingly.

"I was just taking a shower." He looked confused. "Did I miss something?"

"Did you _miss_ something?" I said incredulously.

"Why do I always miss the action around here?" he laughed.

"Because you are most of the action." I informed him. What is it with funny expressions today? I'm going to need a camera with me at all times.

"And when you aren't the action. . . Gale is." I finished.

Yeah, I'm definitely going to have to order a camera sometime soon.

"What is Gale doing here?" He questioned. I just shrugged in answer, but the discomfort I'm feeling probably shows on my face, which mirrors his.

Then it hits me that Peeta is probably afraid that I'll dump him for Gale. Or worse, I'll get confused and not be able to choose between the two again. But I'm never going to fall back into that pattern. I made my choice, and I've just proved it, right?

"Peeta. . . you shouldn't. . . I mean, you don't have to worry." I fumbled for the right words.

"Worry about what?"

"You know. . . that I might leave." I refused to look in his eyes.

"Will you leave?" He sounded so dejected, like he knew this would happen all along.

My head snapped up. "No! I'm not leaving! How could I just abandon you and Shannon and Haymitch and. . ." I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I'm staying."

Peeta smiled such a beautiful, dazzling smile that I think I almost melted.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asked.

"Cheesy buns." I answered automatically.

"Coming right up." He started busying himself around the kitchen, assembling ingredients and whatnot.

"Shannon, let's go check and see if Johanna and Gale haven't killed each other yet." I held out my hand to the little girl and she took it eagerly. I'm pretty sure her anticipation wasn't due to the fact that she might get to watch them kill each other.

I heard. . . laughing. Instinctively I turned around to see who the laughter emanated from, but whoever it was they weren't inside the house.

"Johanna is having a good time." Shannon remarked. She was peeking through the window at Johanna and Gale who, to my surprise, were the laughers. I watched them curiously. Gale doesn't really laugh much, because there never was much cause to when we fought for our lives on a daily basis.

Johanna appears younger, even pretty, when she isn't hiding her obvious stress under a sarcastic smile. She looks like year after year of heavy loads had just been lifted of her chest all at once.

By now Peeta has come up behind us. "Is it just me, or am I seeing some sort of connection here. . .?" He raised his eyebrows at the couple.

"It's just you." Shannon patted Peeta's arm sympathetically and walked away, humming.

Peeta bursts out laughing.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Nothing. Your expression was funny." He attempted to compose himself and failed.

"You haven't even seen half of it." I teased, punching his arm.

"Geez, Katniss, when are going to stop doing that?" He said.

"When you stop being such a baby about it." I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him.

Kissing may as well be an occupational hazard for me now, because I keep craving more. We just started to get into it when Gale and Johanna reentered he house.

"What is it with you?" I sighed exasperatedly.

"I know, I'm annoying, that's the second time you've walked in on us, blah blah blah." Johanna brought her four fingers to her thumb as she said it, forming a mouth with her hand.

"Shut up." I muttered, which of course Johanna didn't take seriously.

"Anyways, I'm hungry. What's cooking?" she continued.

"Cheesy buns." Shannon supplied, reappearing from behind a corner.

"Right. Sounds great. Well, you guys can go on without us." At first, I thought 'us' meant her and Gale. Then she looked at me.

"The Mockingjay and I have to talk." She yanked me out of the house. We walked towards the woods in silence for a while, and the increasing awkwardness made me want to scream. Maybe she didn't want us to be overheard, maybe she just wanted to put some distance between us and the others. Whatever the case, I wish that she would just get on with it.

When we got to the fence surrounding the woods, she finally stopped.

And the silence continued.

"So, um, you and Gale seem friendly." I said, trying desperately to search for a topic. Any topic, so long as it got her talking.

"Yeah. It's nice to be with someone sane for a change." She answered vaguely.

"I'm not insane." I stated, but then I realized that might not be entirely true.

"Victors aren't sane." I wish she'd stop being so. . . distant. It was really starting to annoy me.

"You wanted to talk about something?" I said, an edge to my voice.

"Oh, yeah. I did want word with you, Mockingjay." Johanna said, as if she's finally realized I'm here.

"Well, what is it?" I snapped.

"Touchy, touchy. It's about that hot cousin of yours." She started.

"Yes?" I egged her on.

She didn't answer, but tossed me something. It looked like a piece of paper, but smooth and gray.

"What is this?" I inquired.

"Those are train tickets. I hope you haven't gotten too familiar with District 4." Johanna smirked.

It took a few seconds to sink in. "We're going to District 4?"

"Gale has to drop in for a couple weeks or so, and he thought you might want to visit your mom. Get away for a while." She said.

"That sounds nice, I guess. Why, though? Why would he do this for you?" I'm genuinely curious. I shuffle through the tickets, finding five. "There's even one for Peeta."

"I think. . . he wanted to prove he wasn't so bad. Or he wants to impress me. Maybe he even wants you back, I don't know. I wouldn't complain if I were you. Let's get cracking, shall we?" Johanna took my arm again and we started the walk towards home, still leaving my head buzzing with questions.

**Obviously this brings about the question- Should Katniss get pregnant? The 80th reviewer, DeicatedWallflower, gets to decide. PM me ASAP, please. I'm working on something for the 90th, don't worry.**

**I think that's all. . . until next time, R&R!**


	18. Something I Never Wanted

**This one is a little rushed. . . sorry. . . and it's also short. Whatever, you'll be getting a new one soon in any case. Thanks to DedicatedWallflower and AmandaMau for the suggestions! You guys are amAZing!**

No.

This isn't real. It can't be. I refuse to believe it.

A knock came at the bathroom door. "Katniss? Are you all right?" My mother called.

I forced myself to speak. "I'm. . . not really sure."

"Can I come in?"

"I guess." I said in a daze. I barely notice when she sits next to me on the bathroom floor. I do register the sigh she makes when she sees the positive pregnancy test she'd given me, though.

"You probably hate me." My voice broke and I put my head in between my knees, tears starting to flow down my cheeks.

"No, honey, I don't hate you." She said softly, stroking my hair in a way only mothers can. It felt good, and reminded me of the days when I was little. So carefree and innocent, without a worry in the world.

"I never wanted this." I sobbed. Stupid hormones. Would they already be kicking in at this point?

"I know. I know it's hard. But we'll help you through this, honey. You aren't alone." The last sentence comforted me above all else. At least I have support, something I never even dreamed of from anyone else except Peeta.

Peeta. . . oh, no. He will be so excited. I know he's always wanted children. And I can't deny him this one, as much as I might want to. But I'll probably make his life miserable. . . aren't both of the parents supposed to be excited together? What happens if only one of them is? I don't think anybody ever considered such an angle before.

"Mom, this is a secret, okay? I'll tell the others. . . when I'm ready." I said, wiping my eyes.

"I won't tell anyone, sweetie. And. . . I'm proud of you." She hugged me tightly, and the hug was full of comfort and understanding beyond any words.

"Thank you." I whispered.

Before I knew it I was out by the beach, sitting on the sand and letting the waves wash over my toes. I find that sitting by the ocean is one of the best ways to sort out my tangled thoughts, even if the endless blue expanse of water isn't the woods. What I wouldn't give to be out there hunting. . .

"Hey, Catnip." Gale sat beside me on the sand. His efforts to make conversation are usually greeted by one or two word responses, but that never stopped him.

"Hi." I answered shortly.

"Are you okay? You look like you've been crying." He said, sounding concerned. I hated that voice full of pity.

"I haven't." I snapped, which only proved that I had.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No!" I replied, horrified. If Gale found out about this. . . about the _baby_. . . he'd be so angry at me I wouldn't be surprised if he actually killed Peeta.

"What's with the hesitation, Catnip? You know you can talk to me, right?"Why is he so persistent? And no, I can't talk to him about it.

"Go away, Gale." I sighed exasperatedly.

"No thank you, I think I'll stay." He said cheerfully, and all the irritation I'd been feeling towards him broke.

"Gale, when will you get the message that I do not want to do anything with you, let along talk to you about my problems? I want you to leave me alone and don't even _think_ about coming near me again." I snarled. He looked shocked and angry, but he had it coming.

What he did next shocked me even more. He kissed me. Furiously, I shoved him away.

"How dare you, Gale! How dare you kiss me when you know that it was never you? What we had was never more than friendship. It was always Peeta, always, and us," I gestured towards me and him, " is never going to happen! Especially since I'm p. . ." I clapped my hand over my mouth. Okay, not the way I planned to tell him.

"No. Fucking. Way." He growled.

"I'm sorry. . ." I started.

"Sorry? Sorry doesn't even _cover_ this, Katniss!" he yelled. I take a moment to wonder how our conversations always end up as arguments.

"I never wanted this, and you know it!" I shouted right back at him.

"You never think, do you? You never, once in your life, stopped to think about the consequences of your actions, and now look at the mistake you made!" He pointed at my abdomen.

That took it way, way too far. "My baby is not mistake!" I screamed, absolutely livid.

"Oh, so now you _want_ it?" He taunted.

As hard as I could, I slapped him across the face. I will _not _tolerate Gale making fun of my baby like it's some sort of horrible thing that doesn't deserve the chance to exist.

"What the fuck, Katniss?" He spat.

"You do not insult my baby. It is not a mistake and I am not going to let you hurt it." I said fiercely.

"Look who's getting all maternal." He muttered sulkily.

"Shut the hell up, Gale." I said in disgust.

"Fine. It's not like I have anything to say anymore." And he stalked off.

As much as I want to scream at him, I can't. Not now. I'm too worn out and exhausted and sad. The last thing I needed today was Gale harassing me, especially when I needed the encouragement. But it isn't like he would have been in favor of this baby anyways. . .

"Katniss?" Oh, great.

"Hi, Peeta." I eyed him warily, as if he might start beating me down too.

"Is. . . you were telling the truth, right? Are you really. . .?" He doesn't even need to finish his sentence.

"Yeah. I am." I wasn't ready to say the word _pregnant_ out loud yet.

"Really? We're really having a child?" I can see a smile creeping up on his face.

"Yes." My shoulders slumped unhappily. It's all too much too take in for one day.

Peeta sighs. "Look, Katniss, I understand if you. . . if you don't want it."

"No! I mean, well, I don't really know if I want it or not. But I'm not going to. . . get rid of it." Almost instinctively, I wrap my arms around my abdomen, s if that could keep it safe.

I'm not sure what I feel for this baby. I don't love it, I don't hate it. Maybe. . . protective is a safe word. At least there's no definite feelings involved. That's how I first felt about Peeta, right?

For the first time, I let myself think about this child's future.

"I'm going to be a terrible mother." I stated.

"No, you won't, Katniss. You'll be a great mother. And I'm always there to help, right? You aren't alone." It's the exact same thing my own mother told me.

"I know, but I still think she'll like you better." I said.

"She?" Peeta questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Oh. . . um. . . I just thought, you know. . ." I trailed off. Honestly, I don't know where that came from.

"Well, _she _had better look just beautiful as you." Peeta whispered. For the first time today, I smiled.

"As long as she has blue eyes like yours. Mine are ugly." A picture of a dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl filled my mind. I wondered whether I'd ever come to love her.

"When are you going to stop underestimating yourself?" Peeta asked exasperatedly.

"I'm just stating the facts, here. And anyways, it won't matter whether she's pretty or not. She'll hate me no matter what."

"Shannon doesn't hate you." Peeta countered.

"Shannon is different. She's used to me."

"Well, this girl can get used to you too. She won't hate you, Katniss."

"Yes she will!" I wailed, tears welling up behind my eyes.

In Peeta's arms, I let myself cry out the building desperation, anger, sadness and horrification that accompanied me since the moment I found out about my baby.

**I already have a name figured out, so any suggestions will be appreciated but not used in the story. I am interested to see what you think, though, so if you want to tell me what you would name the baby. The 90th reviewer, LoonyLuna98, gets to choose the gender of the baby. . . I know I set it up to be a girl, but anything can happen. . . :D**

**Okay, so, the review button is a whole lot prettier now. Just look at it. It's so big and shiny and BLUE. You know you want to. . . go and click on the shiny blue button for all the times you wanted to press a button but couldn't. Go ahead. . .**


	19. Truce

**Before you start throwing overripe bananas, I know this one is short! I've been working on so many other stories lately, and school is getting busier. . . :/ I just haven't found the time! The good news is that I've already started some of the next chapter, so you shouldn't have to wait so long for the next one. **

**If you really want to throw things, though, try this. Take a third of a peeled banana, cover it with yeast, and leave it in a plastic bag for a week. Seriously, if anything is worse than overripe bananas, it's that.**

I couldn't sleep. No matter how much I tossed and turned, no matter how long my eyes stayed closed, sleep evaded me like the plague.

Finally, I gave up and tiptoed downstairs. I searched for some hot chocolate in the cupboards, hoping the hot drink might calm me down enough to lull me to sleep. While looking through the pantry, I came across some cheesy buns and all of sudden felt ravenous. I took three of the buns, my mission for hot chocolate forgotten, and ate each one slowly.

"Can't sleep?" Johanna came up behind me.

"When will you stop following me?" I muttered, glaring at my last remaining cheesy bun.

"When you stop acknowledging me. But you are, so you're stuck with me." She replied lightly, sitting across from me.

"I'm leaving tomorrow." She announced after a long stretch of silence.

"You are turning into quite the nomad, aren't you?" I smirked.

"Better than going home." She shrugged indifferently.

"What is this new aversion to going back to District 7?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"It's not an aversion, Mockingjay. It's called avoidance of the past. Ever heard of it?"

"I have. It's another substitution for _I can't go home because I can't face anything remotely related to anything that has happened in my past life." _

I was actually sort of proud of myself for that one. Finally, a remark worthy enough to shut Johanna Mason up.

"You don't know the half of it, Katniss." She said angrily. If she's using my real name. . .

"And why not? We're all victors. We can understand." I retorted.

"You know what you have that I don't? _Sympathy._" She practically spat out the word. "I'm all alone, you know that? Now I don't even have neighbors at home, much less family. And everyone gets it into their heads that I'm tough enough to deal with it. Guess what, Mockingjay? Sometimes you can't bear these things alone."

I'm shocked. Then guilty. Because, as usual, she's completely right. I do have sympathy, support from others. Doing the last three years alone. . . I wouldn't even be able cope. For the first time, I actually wonder if I've had things easy.

"You know what you have that I don't? Strength." I told Johanna, wanting her to know that in some small way, she's appreciated. Even if it's from me.

"I'm not strong. Look at me- I'm using you guys to hide behind. I'm practically a baby." She said, but she did smile slightly.

"What have I been doing this whole time?" I raised my eyebrows at her. "And wanting someone to be around. . . it's not babyish at all."

Suddenly I'm so overwhelmingly tired that I wouldn't be surprised if I just fell asleep right here and now.

"Night, Mockingjay. Oh, and remember, if you ever tell anyone- I can still rip your throat out. Even if you are knocked up." She cocked her head at me, staring at my bleary eyes.

"Knocked up for real." She corrected herself. I managed a smile, and as soon as she left I felt like collapsing. But somehow, in a sort of haze, I dragged myself up the stairs. The last thing I remember is curling up against Peeta's chest and instantly falling into a deep, blissful sleep.

When I wake up, I barely have time to dash to the bathroom before my little midnight snack came back up. I retched until my stomach hurt and my throat burned. Out of the many things I hated about being pregnant, morning sickness was the worst. The random fatigue, hunger, and mood swings I could deal with, if I had a lot of patience. But the throwing up. . . what on earth can you do to make it better? At least you can do things to help the other symptoms.

I lean my hot forehead on the toilet seat, exhausted and trembling. As much as I want to sit there forever, though, I have to get up and wash away all traces of my obvious weariness. Even so, I look like hell.

I check the clock quickly, and start downstairs. Then I make a double-take. Holy crap. It's already two o' clock in the afternoon and I've been sleeping the whole time. . . How much did I miss?

"Finally. Sleeping Beauty awakes." Somebody behind me remarked.

"When will you give it _up_, Gale?" I sighed, to shattered to be angry.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, Catnip. I know it was mean to tease you about. . . well, you know." An apology. .. it's almost enough to make up for what he said yesterday. _Almost_.

"You know I don't forgive easily." I said, turning to face him.

"I know, I just thought I should say it. Whenever you're ready, tell me." Gale said.

"You'll be the first." I replied.

"Truce?" he asked.

"Truce." I agreed. It made me feel just the tiniest bit better.

**Bit of a filler. . . most of the chapters leading up to the birth of Mystery Child will be fillers, I'm afraid. :( Remember to try the banana and yeast thing. . . seriously, I dare you. If you have the stomach, obviously, and the curiosity, go ahead and do it. Call it my challenge for the week. Yeah, I'm crazy and I know it. **

**R&R, and I'd be really grateful if you checked out my SYOT. . . I have really awesome plans for that one! And thank you for your patience, my lovely readers! You never cease to amaze me with your response to the story! It makes me so happy!**


	20. A Child's Innocence

**This is probably the longest and most pathetic excuse ever written for not updating sooner, but here you go:**

_My internet crashed and I had to wait a couple days for it to start again, and then I might have bitten off a little bit more than I can chew by starting another story while still writing this one, and then all my friends back in the USA started graduating and I was sad because I couldn't graduate with them, and then I was thinking that writing the longer chapters make me slack off because it's like, "Do I have to write _that _much?" And then I thought I may as well just write the short ones because I have an SYOT up as well and I won't have as much time, and I really have to finish my English homework because there was a LOT, and then I just felt really down because I miss my friends and I need someone to talk to and there isn't one currently available, so I bought a bunch of sad music and listened to it all day, and then I had writer's block and I was staring at the computer for hours having written maybe three sentences, and then I didn't feel like writing after all of that._

**The end. **

**I like bagels :)**

Finnick Odair. . . Annie had no idea how well she's named her son. Finnick, or Finn as most people prefer to call him, is the perfect image of his father. Even the intense look of concentration he adopts while making a sandcastle reminds me of Finnick tying knots. It's almost funny, a one-year-old looking so serious.

"Doe!" he announced, which is Finn's way of saying he's done. I look at the shapeless mound of sand, probably a priceless work of art to his young mind, and wonder if I ever did such a thing as a child.

"Good job, Finn." I sighed, ruffling his hair. Finn smiled proudly.

At that moment the surf came up a bit farther than usual. A spellbound look came over the little boy's face as he watched the water barely touched his toes, and then pulled back into the endless sea. The incredulity in his face, the wonder, causes me to stare.

It makes me want to go back to my childhood, hunting in the woods with my father, and cherish every moment of it. Was I ever so innocent and free? It doesn't feel like it. The Games and everything leading up to it seems to have marked out my whole existence. But in another blurry lifetime, a long time ago, I had a different life.

Keeping a firm grip on Finn, I slowly pulled him towards the ankle-deep part of the ocean. His wonderment turned to excitement, and with each wave that rolled in he got bolder, splashing and shrieking with joy.

"Peeta, come down here!" I yelled to him over the waves' loud crashing. He sat far back, well away from the water.

"I'm fine!" he called back.

"No you aren't! If you're in District 4, you may as well live a little!" I teased. When Peeta still refused, I turned to Finn.

"Do you want Peeta to come and play with us?" I asked, pulling him onto my lap.

"Cookie?" Finn said hopefully. It's probably the only word he can actually say properly, besides 'mama.'

"Peeta, Finn says you have to come down and give him cookies!"

"Okay." He greed, a little faintly. Who says blackmail doesn't still work?

"Cookie!" Finn held out his hand demandingly. I shot a smug grin at Peeta, which was returned with a glare. But when Peeta glares, it doesn't even look remotely dangerous, so I just laughed I response.

"Cookies come later, Finn." I explained to the now-pouting child.

Suddenly hands came and grabbed him from behind. Finn squealed as Annie lifted him up in the air.

"Thanks for taking care of him." Annie smiled, tickling Finn's feet.

"No problem." Peeta said.

"Cookie?" Finn said.

"We'll have to stop by the bakery and get some, okay?" Annie crooned, and waltzed past us, taking Finn with her.

"You know what this means?" Peeta said, leaning in close.

"What?" I asked, a little dizzy.

"We have the whole entire day to ourselves."

"That is so good." I would have said more, but suddenly my lips were occupied. Then I splashed water from the latest coming wave all over Peeta.

"No fair!" he complained, while I grinned mischievously and ran away.

"You'll have to come and get me." I teased, remembering my father saying the exact same thing when I was little. Hide-and-seek in the woods. . . the only thing better, at that time, was hunting. I took a few steps back into the water.

"What? I can't. . . um. . ."

"Suck it up." I told Peeta and pulled him out a little farther. The water is up to my knees now.

I'm not entirely sure what is up with me. All I know is that I want to feel like a little girl again- happy and carefree.

When the next wave hits, accompanied with a spray of sea salt in my face, delicious laughter bubbles through my lips. Peeta is still looking wary, so I splash him again. This time, he responds, and a huge splash fight ensues. Somehow I end up back on shore again, water still soaking my feet.

The wind had been blowing relentlessly for some time now, but the sun still blazed brightly above us. Me, with my tangled hair whipping about my face, soaking and covered in sand, probably looked disastrous. Like a science experiment gone wrong, maybe. But Peeta is staring like he'll never see me again.

"What?" I asked.

"You have never looked more beautiful than you do now." He said, eyes wide.

"Really?" I whispered. Nobody had ever called me beautiful. . . not in that context. It sounded so right coming from Peeta.

"Really." It's amazing how Peeta can stop my heart with the simplest of words. And it might seem very classic, kissing on the beach with our hands intertwined, but it felt so real.

"Peeta?" I murmured into his neck.

"Hmmm?"

"I love you." That's the first time I've ever said it out loud. I love the feel of the words on my tongue.

"I love you too." He whispers wonderingly.

And we just stood there, holding each other, with no other words needed.

**I know that after waiting so long you were probably expecting a WAY less crappy chapter. I have good plans for the next one, though. . . hopefully that'll be good enough to meet my usual standards. And I'm honestly sorry for such a long wait. Really, I feel terrible for deserting you guys like this. And, sorry if this chapter seemed so boring an unnecessary. I just felt I should capture that childlike innocence, you know? I think most of us want to back to those good old days :)**


	21. Terror And Helplessness

**Hey! Thanks for holding out so long, and I'm sorry this one is late! I'm not even going to give an excuse this time. I'm horribly lazy and I know it :( I'm working on it, though. . . **

**Okay. I know you've waited forever for this one. I'll shut up. **

"Katniss, honey? Can I talk to you for a minute?" My mom tells me when she gets home late that night.

"Sure." I answered hesitantly, wondering what I did this time.

"I wondered if you could stay here in District 4, until a few weeks after the baby is born. I. . ." she started.

"No." I said. No way am I staying here for nine months. District 4 is no District 12, and I'm already starting to long for home. The woods. Shannon. Haymitch.

My mother sighs, as if she knew this would be the answer. "Please, Katniss? I want to keep you close during your pregnancy- keep tabs on the baby, and make sure nothing is going wrong."

I shook my head. "No."

"I need you to stay here for me." she said slowly but firmly.

"No! I'm not staying, I can't live the rest of my life here!" I shouted. I could already feel something crushing me from all sides, trapping me, restricting me to one tiny space.

"Katniss. . ."

"You can't make me! You can't make me stay!" I screamed.

"Honey, I'm not making you stay," she said gently, "I'm _asking_ you to."

My shoulders slumped. But I wasn't giving in. I still want to retain some of my dignity, even if it resides in the smallest part of me.

"I'll think about it." I muttered finally.

When I reach our room, I find Peeta already awake. I know he's been listening, you can see it on his face.

"Has anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?" I snapped.

Peeta went straight to the point. "Look, you know you mom is right. . ."

"Don't even try it." I warned, but despite my anger tears started flowing.

"Katniss. . ." he started.

"Please. Please just leave me alone." I sank to the floor, holding my sobs in until my throat burned. Even though he doesn't want to, Peeta leaves. Haymitch was right. I could live ten lifetimes, thousands of lifetimes, and not deserve him for five seconds. All I did was hurt him over and over, but he still loves me.

All I could think of at that point is that although love doesn't make any sense, somehow it manages to stay beautiful.

THREE MONTHS LATER

In my fourth month of pregnancy, you can barely see the bump starting to form on my stomach. My mother says during your first pregnancy it takes a while for the belly to start growing¸ but either way, it means I won't be able to deny it any longer. I am having this child and now I have to acknowledge it.

During the third month, my morning sickness got bad to the point I'd lock myself in the bathroom for hours, unable to leave. Peeta had been doing everything he can, but I know I'm not exactly making it easy for him.

One day, about halfway through my fourth month, I felt it. A small kick, right in my middle. I froze in absolute terror.

No. What was I thinking, bringing a child into this world? I never should have let my emotions run high that night. This place is too cruel and evil to host a child, a thing of fresh innocence and beauty.

And I'm scared for myself, too. What happens if the pain gets too great? What if something goes wrong? There is a _human being_ growing in my stomach and now it's real. Really and truly real.

Without thinking, I start running, just like the night the Quarter Quell was announced so long ago. I run along the beach until the terror overwhelms me and I'm reduced to my knees, screaming and crying. My fingers raked through the sand desperately, wishing for anything to hold onto. I need something solid, to anchor me to the world.

After my mind settles and I'm lying on the sand, I wonder idly if my family are looking for me now. My mother, Gale, Peeta. . . they must be frantic. I figure I'm a good four or five miles away, so I'll be safe for a little while longer. I close my eyes and fall asleep, into a world full of terror and helplessness.

_I see a girl, twelve years old, sitting in the middle of a clearing. She's beautiful, and she sings sweet songs in a voice rival to my own. All the Mockingjays are flying towards her, eager to repeat her music._

_Then the Mockingjays grow huge, so big they block out the sky. People jump out of their outstretched mouths, wielding knives. But I know these people._

_Cato, Clove, Foxface, Glimmer, Marvel, President Snow, President Coin. . . Everyone I've ever harmed, they stood there, surrounding the girl. Her eyes meet mine in horror. "Help me!" she screamed._

_But I couldn't move. I stood frozen, watching helplessly as they make a circle around her, arms raised for the kill. "NOOO!" she cried. Then her bright, blue eyes met mine._

I wake up in complete darkness, screaming so loud it hurt my own ears. But I kept screaming, long past the point where my fear had passed, just because I needed to. Suddenly a hand clamped down on my mouth, muffling my screams.

"Katniss! We've been looking for you since this afternoon!" Peeta's worried voice said. I sat up, my bones screeching in protest.

"I'm sorry." I muttered, running on finger along the length of my abdomen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, gently touching my cheek.

"It. . . the baby kicked. I felt it." I sighed resignedly. If I couldn't tell Peeta, I couldn't tell anyone. He takes me in his arms, just holding me. The kiss he plants on my forehead makes me feel so good, so safe, that I almost cry in relief. Just that he's here, with me, is enough.

"I brought some bread. I figured since you haven't eaten all day I might as well bring something along in case I found you." Peeta says, holding out a warm loaf. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head.

I start gathering wood, which isn't hard to find, considering all the driftwood strewn across the shore.

"What are you doing?" Peeta asked, bemused.

"Making a fire." I answered, and understanding dawned in his eyes. "Will you help me?" I whispered. He nodded and within thirty minutes we had a good fire going.

"Give me some bread." I commanded, and Peeta handed me a slice.

"Katniss, are you sure? This. . . this is forever, you know." He said seriously.

"That's exactly what kind of future I want, Peeta. Forever." I said, and together we plunged the bread in the fire. I noticed which kind of bread it was- swirled with nuts and raisins. The kind he's thrown me in the rain, so long ago.

I smiled at the memory. Yes, we'd be together- forever. And even though the bread tasted of charcoal, I also sensed some hope.

**Awww. . . *sniff sniff* the moment we've all been waiting for. And the moment we all know Suzanne Collins SHOULD HAVE put in Mockingjay! I hope I did it right! :) **


	22. Names and Meanings

**In this one, Katniss is seven months pregnant. I know I'm rushing through the pregnancy a bit, but I'm running out of ideas to make the time in between more interesting, so I have to cut corners a little bit :/ I'm not proud of this chapter. . . but the story will pick up soon!**

"A baby?" Shannon's little voice said in awe.

"Yeah. Just a few years younger than you." I explained gently.

"Is it a boy baby or a girl baby?" Shannon asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I want it to be a surprise." I sighed. Shannon's enthusiasm was tiring to me. She's so excited for a new playmate, but I'm still not emotionally or physically ready to have this child.

"I don't like surprises." Shannon pouted.

"You'll find out soon enough, Shannon." I said exasperatedly.

"Haymitch says he wants to talk to you." She stated.

"Okay." I agreed. As much as I hate to admit it, I've missed my mentor.

"You're pregnant?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes." I said, readying myself for the lecture.

"Well, it's about damn time." Haymitch huffed. "But I'm not babysitting this one."

"Is Shannon giving you a hard time?" I asked, absent-mindedly twisting the phone cord in my free hand.

"Not really. But she talks too much."

I laugh a little bit. I can just picture Shannon talking to Haymitch nonstop, and him trying to get her to shut up so he can drink in silence. "She'll be off your hands soon."

"Thank god." He muttered. Then he said, "Well. . . you take care of yourself."

"You, too." I said and he hung up.

I was reluctant to put down the phone. It's like holding a piece of them with me. And I miss Haymitch and Shannon a lot. Hearing their voices is never enough. I want to talk to them, face-to-face, and laugh with them.

"Hey, are you okay?" Peeta whispered in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I'm fine." I said automatically.

"Katniss, if something is wrong, talk to me." Peeta said. I wonder, since we're married now, do I have to get used to opening up? Can I keep things private? It's silly. But I don't exactly know how to be a wife- or is there a certain way to do it?

"I'm scared I'll hate it." I answered finally, deciding to tell Peeta. If I can't trust him, I can't trust anyone, and that's a fact.

"Why would you hate it?" Peeta asked, surprised. I almost laughed.

"Well. . . because I didn't want a baby in the first place. What if I don't feel the connection? What if I abandon it?" I worried.

"The very fact that you're afraid of not loving it already shows you won't hate it." Peeta told me.

These words soothed me a little, but only some. Worry still gnawed at my stomach, and only when I hold the baby in my arms will it be tamed.

"We haven't decided on names yet." I quickly changed the subject.

"I'm terrible at naming things." Peeta admitted.

"Prim could. . . I mean, she would have helped. She loved to name everything. Each animal she saw, she came up with a name for it." I remembered. Now pain seared through my stomach.

"Well, what were some of the names?" Peeta asked.

"She liked to name things for the meanings. She called this one little bird she found Minna, because it meant 'protection.'" I thought.

"What else?" Peeta prompted.

"She named a doe Bella, because it meant 'beautiful.'" I laughed. "And a sheep Rachel, which means 'innocent lamb.'"

"Anything more?" asked Peeta.

"Just one more that I remember. . . she liked to call any Mockingjay she came across Callandra. It means 'singing bird.'" I said.

"I like Callandra. It's pretty, and it would suit her if her voice is a beautiful as yours." Peeta smiled.

"I thought. . . if it's a boy, we should name him Edan." I said hesitantly.

"Why?"

"It's what my mother and father would have named Prim if she were a boy. Me as well. I always sort of liked it." I said.

"So, if it's a girl, we'll call her Callandra. If it's a boy, we'll name him Edan. Right?" Peeta asked.

"Right." I clarified. Giving my baby a name sort of helped me get the picture in my head. Now it isn't nameless, now it has some sort of identity at least.

"Peeta? I want her middle name to be Primrose." I said suddenly. "I want some small part of Prim to live on. You know what I mean?" I said, biting my lip.

"Of course. And in the case of a boy, I want his middle name to be Brody." Peeta said.

"Who was that?" I wondered aloud.

"My oldest brother. He was the nicest to me." Peeta shrugged, but I could see the pain in his eyes. I feel so selfish for not remembering he lost almost his whole family too.

"I'm sorry about your family, Peeta." I said, touching his face.

"It's okay. You and our baby are my family now." He said.

**Next chapter is the birth scene :) Also, how many of you guys are fans of the Avengers or have watched it? I've been writing a fanfic for the movie and I'm curious if any of you want me to put it up or not. Please give me feedback! :)**


	23. The Phoenix Or The Flame

** I want to explain the name of this chapter really quickly. You all now that Callandra means 'singing bird.' A phoenix is a songbird, right? And Edan means 'full of fire.' So, hence, "The Phoenix Or The Flame." **

**Enjoy! xXx**

I can't believe some people actually get pregnant by choice. The last few weeks have been nothing but miserable for me.

My stomach is huge, bulging. It makes me feel so ugly. My back hurts almost all the time, and my ankles get swollen to the point where I have to stay in bed. When I stay sitting all day, I start to get restless. I feel useless, like I'm not capable of doing anything anymore.

On top of it all, the morning sickness has returned full-force. I'll only eat cheesy buns, partially because I can't eat anything more substantial and partially because nothing else sounds good right now.

Peeta has been amazing, rubbing my back when I'm sore, baking cheesy buns, and stroking my hair when I'm throwing up. Even though sometimes I become so snappy I start to get angry at myself.

I know I'm not making this easy for anyone, really. But I can't help it. Everything is so horrible, I'm about to ask my mother if she can just cut open my stomach and get the baby out.

It happened on one of the days where I could actually walk, and I was enjoying a little stroll by the sea. Then the pain came out of nowhere, crippling me, forcing me to the ground. Water trickled down my legs and I realized what was happening. Another contraction about a minute later stopped me in my tracks. They shouldn't be this close so soon. . .

"Mom!" I called. I looked for her everywhere. "Mom? Where are you?"

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she called.

"I'm in. . . I'm in labor." I gasped as the pain made me speechless for a few seconds. I had to clamp my mouth shut to keep from screaming out.

"It's two weeks early!" my mother came rushing into the room, seeing my on my knees and gripping the countertop.

"I know. But this baby. . . it's coming fast." I bent over double, my mouth gaping like fish out of water. My back hurt more than ever.

"Come into the guest room, Katniss. You can lie down and I'll get you some pain medication." My mom said, hurrying out of the room.

Now that I'm finally giving birth, I'm almost relieved. Finally, my body will be my own again. But I still have hours ahead of me. . . hours and hours of unspeakable pain. My mother returned with the medication and Peeta, whose face was white.

"Katniss? Are you okay, honey? Do you want me to get you anything?" He asked, gripping my hand tightly.

"No. I'm. . ." I started but another contraction stopped my words.

"It's coming in fast, Katniss. Too fast. You've dilated three centimeters already." My mother bit her lip worriedly. The medication didn't help much, but it did some. I vowed to myself that I would not scream. Each scream would only cause Peeta even more pain, and it wouldn't make things better anyhow.

When the next contraction came, I actually blacked out for a few seconds because it hurt so much. My mother told me to sleep while I could, because I wouldn't be getting much tonight. But I couldn't sleep now, not while the pain was so great.

They got continually worse and worse. I nearly cut off the circulation in Peeta's hand in the effort not to scream. It felt like hours later when my mother said, "Katniss, I'm going to need you to push now."

"It's only been. . . two and a half hours. . ." I panted. My whole body was drenched in sweat.

"I know. But it's ready to come out. Come on. . ."

I swear, Peeta, this is the last one! You are not getting any more kids from me!" I shouted.

I didn't even hear his reply. Everything was made of pain. I couldn't see, even though my eyes were open. I felt hot and sticky and horribly alone. I wanted to die, to end this now, but I still kept pushing. Everything took on a red tint. One continual world of pain.

"I can see the head, Katniss! Just one more. . . there you go. . ." my mother said gently.

And suddenly the sound of crying filled the air. A newborn child's cries, sweet and scared. Finally, I closed my eyes, and the worst of the pain washed away, leaving me in bliss. All I wanted was to sleep. The mystery of my baby's gender could wait. . .

"Callandra." Peeta whispered reverently.

"What?" my eyelids barely fluttered.

"It's her, Katniss." Peeta said. Is he crying? Tears of joy, no doubt.

Somehow, I managed to sit up. I told myself not to look down. "I am never doing that again." I rasped.

"You don't have to, love." Peeta assured me. A bundle of something was pushed into my arms and then I saw her.

She was. . . beautiful. She had a soft covering of dark hair. And her eyes, already open, were a brilliant blue. Peeta's blue. And right in that moment, I knew she was mine. My daughter. She was worth the fight. I smiled, for the first time in weeks.

"She's so beautiful, Peeta. Look at her eyes."

My mother is smiling proudly at us both, with some sadness too. I know she's remembering my father and the first time they became parents.

"What's her full name?" my mother asked.

"Callandra Primrose Mellark." Peeta and I said in unison.

"It's beautiful name for a beautiful little girl." She said.

"It suits her." I agreed proudly. I feel so happy and carefree, for the first time in years. I have a loving husband. The most gorgeous baby girl on the planet, who will grow up in a world safe from any harm. Such a different world than I grew up in.

And I know that our life together will be amazing.

**Hehe. . . hope this one was much better than the others. . . :) And I know most of you are thinking "Holy crap the whole labor was 3 hours?" But that actually happened with somebody I know. I thought it seemed fitting, since Katniss is so fiery it seems like the way she might have entered the world. . .**

**R&R! Thanks for reading! :) **


	24. Who Will She Be

**Before you read this, just know that this story is coming to an end. . . I'm sorry :( There will be one more chapter, then I'm shutting it down. I may have a sequel up, tell me your thoughts on what it should be about and so forth :) **

I can still see the faces of everyone I love flitting by me as the train picked up speed. My mother. Annie. Little Finn, who had become completely fascinated with Callandra in the few weeks she has been alive. Gale and Johanna, who were holding hands when we left.

But honestly, there is no place like District 12. I'll miss everyone, but I'll see them often. Annie has made us promise to come visit for Finn's sake.

It didn't stop me from leaving. I wanted to see Shannon and Haymitch again, and hunt in the woods. Maybe I'd take Shannon and Callandra in there one day, together.

Being back home is. . . surreal. Like a dream that I can't separate from reality. Shannon is all over me and Peeta, especially Callandra.

"What's it's name? Is it a boy or girl?" She inquired curiously.

"It's a girl. Her name is Callandra." I said proudly.

"Candara?" Shannon tried. After a few tries, she stopped. "It's a long name."

"You know what? Call her Callie." Peeta improvised.

"Callie? Where did that come from?" I asked, completely bemused.

"It's a nickname Finn made up. He couldn't pronounce it either." Peeta shrugged, and I laughed.

"Callie! I like her." Shannon announced.

"Do I get to see?" Haymitch said, emerging in the doorway. Shannon squealed and ran up to him, closing her small arms around his leg.

I transferred Callandra into Haymitch's arms. Her eyes were open and attentive, as they often were.

"Well, she's pretty enough." He shrugged. But he's captivated. "And alert. I like that."

I guess that's the biggest compliment I'm going to get from Haymitch.

"You'll be the grandfather, right?" I blurted out. Honestly, I don't know where that came from. However I'm sure Peeta would agree, and there's nobody better.

"Sure." He shrugged, but I can tell he's pleased. "Her name is Callie?"

"Callandra." Peeta and I corrected at the same time.

He looked thoughtful for a second. "I'll stick with Callie."

The next few months were hard. I had to learn how to raise Callandra right, know her habits, feed her. Basically she took up all of my free time. Sometimes I got so frustrated I made Peeta deal with it while I went hunting. But eventually, I learned to live with her and love her.

The nickname 'Callie' stuck. It sounded very overly-cheerful to me, the complete opposite of who Callandra was. A quiet, easy child who slept through the night at three months old. She rarely cried, and the way she looked at you with those crystal blue eyes- like she could read your mind, look inside of you.

'Callie' never summed it up for me. Maybe that was just me being stubborn, though.

I taught Shannon how to shoot, and she's fairly good, but she'll never be brilliant like my father. She's an excellent gatherer though, she can spot stuff even my eyes can't see. So I focus on that. I like those moments in the woods, when it's just me and Shannon, listening to the Mockingjays in silence.

I wonder if Callandra will ever like me, when she grows up. Will our relationship be antagonistic, or friendly? Will she be a loving little girl or mean? Maybe she'll be a good hunter. Maybe a good baker. Kind or uncaring. Eloquent? Withdrawn? Peeta says in time we'll get to know her, but I hate waiting. When will we really start to see who Callandra is?

One night, she was crying harder than usual. I was surprised because she's generally so soft and quiet. So I stole into her room and picked her up in unusually gentle arms.

She started to quiet down, cuddling up to me and playing with a lock of my hair. It seemed so natural in a way. Then, all of a sudden, I started to sing.

"_Deep in the meadow,_

_Under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head_

_And close your sleepy eyes _

_When again they open, the sun will rise." _

When I stopped, I could hear Callandra's soft, easy breathing and I knew she had fallen asleep. The way her mouth opened while she slept and they way she sucked her two middle fingers was adorable to me.

I pressed my lips to her forehead in a natural, comforting gesture. "I love you." I whispered, stroking Callandra's hair before gently setting her back down in the crib.

**Honestly, I'm not proud of this chapter. It seems quite scattered and pointless to me, but I wanted some sort of closure before the epilogue. R&R please, tell me what you think!**


	25. Epilogue

**This chapter occurs five years later, but the beginning is sort of like an introduction and I couldn't figure out where else to put it. Anyways, it's been a real pleasure to write this for you guys. I hope you enjoy this last chapter! xx**

Eventually, we had to let the Capitol give Peeta and I a big wedding. Everyone absolutely adored Callandra, and Effie must have burst with pride. Haymitch walked me down the aisle, and as he passed me on to Peeta he whispered, "Nice job, sweetheart," in my ear. My mother came, as did Annie and Finn. When I threw the bouquet, Johanna caught it right away. Even though it wasn't quite what I imagined and definitely not what I wanted, I had to remind myself that Peeta and I already had our own wedding a long time ago.

Seven Years Later

We visited District 4 often, with Shannon and Callandra. I wouldn't have gone there as much as we do, but both of them love the sea. And I get to be with my mother, catching up on those years I refused to rely on her.

This time, we were only staying for a week or so. Callandra begged me to stay longer. "Please, mommy, just one more week?" she pleaded.

"You know we can't, little duck." I sighed, stroking her hair.

"I'll be good, I promise!" she tried.

"Just have fun while you can, okay? We'll be back soon."

"Fine." She pouted. Then Finn came into view, and her whole face lit up like the sun. It's beautiful to watch.

"Can I go now, mommy?" she said, already on her feet.

"Be back by. . ."

"Five! I know!" Callandra finished for me and ran towards him. "I'm going to beat you this time!" she laughed, but as usual, they ran into the waves together.

At almost seven years old, Callandra is already grown up in so many ways. She was never a child, really. She reminds me of Prim, too, in her quiet and shy way.

"Have you told them yet?" Peeta asked from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Not yet. It's still too early." I answered, twining my fingers with his.

"I thought you said Callie would be the last one." Peeta mentioned.

"I was in labor, you couldn't expect me to be thinking rationally." I rolled my eyes playfully. "And I didn't exactly agree to this one, either. I wanted to wait a few years."

"If you waited, you would never have done it, though." Peeta pointed out.

I thought about it for a moment. "True. But this really is the last one, okay? No more persuading me."

"On one condition." Peeta said.

"What might that b-" My words were stopped with warm lips on mine. I responded enthusiastically, tangling my fingers in his hair.

"I knew it!" Shannon's voice said triumphantly. When I turned around, I saw her sliding down a palm tree not even two yards away from Peeta and I.

I should have known.

"Nice one." I admitted grudgingly. In the past few years, Shannon had become the master of stealth. I still honestly don't know how she does it, but she finds out stuff nobody else knows. I'm not sure how much she's even seen, either.

"You're pregnant, right?" the thirteen-year-old landed lightly on her feet.

"Nice to keep things private." Peeta commented. I laughed.

"Technically, you were going to tell us, so it wasn't eavesdropping. I'm being creative in the ways of my discoveries." Shannon said, her brown eyes wide and pleading.

"Who helped you this time?" I asked.

"Jake. I met him at the hospital the other day, and he's amazing." She said eagerly.

Peeta and I looked at each other at the same time with that knowing look.

"Not in that way!" Shannon insisted. "I meant he's really intelligent. He's a good strategist, too."

"Just remember I have a bow, and I'm not afraid to use it." I warned.

"Katniss, don't you dare." Shannon teased, but her eyes were serious. Then she ran off to join Callandra and Finn in the ocean.

"She'll be a good big sister." Peeta said, staring at the three kids in the ocean.

"She already is." I murmured. "What if I'm not a good mother, Peeta?"

"Don't start that one again. You're a great mother. You already have Callie and you practically raised Shannon." Peeta encouraged me.

"But I've never had a boy before!" I cried. "Do boys like their mothers? I never even had a brother before. I don't know how boys work, or. . ."

"Katniss." Peeta put one finger on my lips. "You'll be fine. We're a team, you don't have to do this alone."

"But. . ."

"You're being irrational. Don't worry about our son, okay?"

I grinned. "You always did have a way with words." When I kissed him, all my worries faded away.

I always used to wonder what my future would be like. I thought it would be hard, and all about survival. Honestly, I'm not sure I thought I'd even live that long. I never even considered this future. But it's brighter than I ever imagined.

And when I opened my eyes, right there in front of the house, I saw a dandelion.

**Let me start off by saying thank you so much for reading. You guys have been absolutely amazing. Thanks to all who reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. Really, I could not have asked for a better response. **

**I'll post another chapter with all the information about the sequel, so stay tuned! **

**-Lexie ;) xoxo**


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